


Fables of a Mage

by dashesofink



Series: Fables of a Mage [1]
Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, The Hobbit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2020-11-24 05:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20902124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dashesofink/pseuds/dashesofink
Summary: Having not been out in the world for nearly twenty years Ianthe was anything but calm upon hearing of the dwarves quest. So when Gandalf come to her cottage and claims to be in need of a guide and protector, she jumps at the opportunity. However the thought of leaving behind her father makes her doubt herself and her intentions. Ianthe's father is sure to reassure her, and after some persuading it isn't long before she's packing again and sent on her way to the Shire. There the young Mage meets the one and only Thorin Oakenshield, the fierce dwarf who battled Azog with nothing but an oak branch. Later she meets his two nephews, Fili and Kili, and for some reason she can’t help but be drawn in by the young brunette prince. How does Ianthe cope with these new feelings for the dwarf, and how will the two of them grow closer together during this perilous journey?





	1. The Expected Meeting

Ianthe wasn’t expecting to have her nap time interrupted by a loud banging against her cottage door. But alas, her groans filled her bedroom as the knocking continued. “Alright, I’m coming!” She knew that if her father hadn’t already answered the door then he was probably out tending to the gardens, or if not that, then he was out in the main court having a meeting. As she threw her legs over the bed she stretched her arms over her head, a satisfied moan falling past her chapped lips when the bones in her back cracked and settled again. Ianthe was sure that the few framed photos on the wail were now on the floor due to the incessant banging. Much to her surprise though, as she exited her room and scurried to the front door, everything was still in place. 

“What in _ Mitéra Gi’ _s name is— oh, hello.”

Ianthe felt a deep blush settle on her freckled cheeks as she craned her neck, her bright eyes locking with her new company. A grey pointed hat sat on top of a long mane of grey hair, and hidden beneath the rim of the old hat was a familiar face, one that Ianthe and the other Mages in her rank knew very well. “Gandalf, it is quite a surprise to see you here!” Ianthe’s lips spread into a smile as she stepped aside, allowing the tall wizard to enter. Gandalf gave a small hum as he removed his hat before stepping inside. “Would you like some tea? I’m sure we have some of your favorite lying around somewhere.”

“That’s quite alright, thank you my dear.” Gandalf gave a chuckle when Ianthe’s round cheeks raised, her lips pulled into another dazzling smile. He watched as the young mage hurried into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Gandalf always did like the company of Mages; such a hospitable race who had a wonderful knack for making the most marvelous tea and cakes. But snacking on sweets and tea wasn’t the only reason he came to visit the Mages on that afternoon. “Ianthe,” Gandalf called, his keen old eyes dancing around the little cottage. “is your father around?” The cottage remained silent for a moment as Ianthe worked on the refreshments. Gandalf took this opportunity to survey the household once more, his gaze falling from an overfilled bookshelf to the small umbrella stand that held a few staffs before his eyes landed on a little wooden box. A box which could barely contain the glowing light of two small gems. Gandalf chuckled at the odd placement for the gems. 

The silence lingered for a moment longer before Ianthe responded, and she reentered the room with a small tray filled with cakes, cookies and some freshly brewed tea before letting out a small hum. “I believe he’s tending to the garden.” She dusted her hands off after placing the tray on to a small table. Ianthe smiled up at the wizard as he snatched a cake and a cup of tea, her hands now resting upon her plump hips. “If not then he might be in a meeting. May I ask why, mister Gandalf?”

Curiosity filled the eyes of the young mage. She watched as he ate away at his snacks for a minute, his lips drinking down the sweet tasting tea before he finally spoke. “I have a proposition for you, Ianthe.” The aura in the room shifted from one of joy and merriness to a solemn one after his words. Ianthe’s lips formed a small frown and her eyes shifted from one side of the room to the other. The little cottage creaked and groaned as the ground under their feet shifted, and Gandalf gave the young mage a knowing look when he saw a faint yellow glow form in her eyes. “Please, my dear, it’s nothing to get worried about.”

When Gandalf’s hand touched Ianthe’s shoulders the groaning stopped after her eyes shifted back to their usual blue ones. She twisted the silver rings around her thick fingers as she peered up to the wizard and her feet padded lightly against the stone floor as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Then what is it about, Gandalf?” 

The old wizard took another sip of his tea before clearing his throat, his cup hitting the tray with a small clang as he set it down. “How would you feel about joining me on an adventure?” The thought of exploring the world again caused a surge of excitement to course through Ianthe’s body. Her lips pulled up in a large grin and she bounced up and down almost instantly. “Please, now, don’t get to excited. You don’t even—“

“Oh Gandalf, I can’t help but get excited!” Ianthe’s glee filled laughter echoed throughout the small cottage. Her body was buzzing with joy as she danced around the room, her hands stretched high above her head. Her brown hair danced around her shoulders and slapped her in the face as she whirled around, just the thought of getting out into the world again made her feel like she was flying. “I haven’t explored the world in ages! And here you come, saying that you'd like me to join you on an adventure?! It’s a dream come true!” Gandalf was quick to grab her by the shoulders as she danced passed him, his eyes shining with amusement as he tried to hold the young mage still. “Oh please, tell me; when can we leave?”

“You don’t even know what this adventure is about, Ianthe.” Gandalf gave the girl a knowing look. Ianthe tried her hardest to contain her glee, her teeth biting down on her lips as she gave him a quick nod to continue. “Now, I’m sure that you are aware of a dwarf named Thorin—“

“—Oakenshield, yes! Father told me about him!”

“Good.” Gandalf nodded in approval at the Mages words. He made a mental note to speak with the Elder Osier before departing from the Mages again. “The time has come for the dwarves to reclaim Erebor, Ianthe. Thorin Oakenshield is gathering a group of dwarves to join him on this quest— to take back their mountain from the dragon Smaug— and he has asked me to find a guide, as well as a protector, for his company.” Ianthe’s eyes blew wide as he explained the purpose of his adventure, her mouth parting with awe when he told her of the dwarves quest. Ianthe could only recall one time in her life where she had met a dwarf, but that was nearly sixty years before, and she was still a young and impressionable mage. However she would happily interact with more if it meant exploring the world again. “Would you be willing to join Thorin Oakenshield’s company as a guide to Erebor?”

“Me?” Ianthe couldn’t believe her little ears. It had been long since she wandered the lands last. Despite her rank of Mages being a wandering rank, the Elder— her father— had decided it was time for them to find another forest and rest. That was nearly two decades ago. The longer Ianthe stayed put in her village the more her bones ached to be out in the world again. Her excitement, however, slowly dwindled upon realizing something; what would her father say. Being an Elder meant that anything that was to happen inside or outside of the rank was to be approved by him first. And being an elderms daughter was no exception. “What of my father?” 

“He will approve.” Gandalf gave Ianthe a reassuring nod, his fingers squeezing her shoulders before he let go of her. Ianthe chose to ignore his choice of words. Her smile appeared again, and it seemed that the air in the room grew light when she laughed a joyous laugh. “A meeting has been set for the end of this week. Do you know your way to the Shire, more importantly Bag-End?” 

“The Shire…” Ianthe’s eyes darted around the room as she thought. It had been years since she had heard of the little area, her mind drawing a sudden blanket before she squeezed her eyes shut. Gandalf watched silently as the mage tried to remember, his eyes catching the veins popping out on her temple before she let out a cheer and opened her eyes again. “Oh yes, the Shire! We visited that area almost thirty years ago!”

“Wonderful.” Gandalf gave a single hum of approval before he turned away. Almost as if a dog was nipping at his heels, Gandalf made for the door after grabbing his hat, but not before snagging a few more sweets off of the tray. Ianthe followed close behind him as he exited the cottage, her bare toes just stopping at the grassy lawn in front of her. “I would suggest you prepare your things quickly,” He added over his shoulder, turning suddenly to the left in search of the Elder. “You must be there before the meeting ends. A mark will be on the door, a blue rune.” 

Ianthe nodded along to Gandalf’s instructions. She watched as the wizard paused before turning back, a small smile pulling up his lips when he caught the twinkle in her eye. “We’ll be expecting you, dear Ianthe; don’t be late.” 

“Never! I will see you then, old friend!” Ianthe pressed against her toes as she waved, watching as the wizard disappeared behind a few cottages before she turned back to her home. She couldn’t contain her excitement anymore, a loud laugh echoing against the wooden walls as she closed the door. Her body was buzzing as she bounded for her home, her hands fidgeting with the lock on her chest before she yanked it open to grab a large pack. Her once tidy room soon became a mess as she stuff her things into her pack. An assortment of spell-books and herbs were shoved inside the heavy-duty bag, followed by some random clothing and a small vile of deep blue liquid that oozed of a sweet smell. She paused for a moment to suck in a deep breath, her hands falling on to the top of her chest as another small laugh feel from her lips.

Ianthe couldn’t believe that she would actually be exploring the world again. She couldn’t seem to remember the last time her eyes fell upon the ever-green forests that grew through the vast lands, or the grey, steeping mountains that added a wonderful texture and feel to the earth. She could feel her magic surge through her body at the thought. How she longed to breathe the crisp mountain air, or to run her fingers along the rough bark of trees she hadn’t seen in ages. “Focus, Ianthe.” The Mages gave her freckled cheeks a small tap before she shook her head, the large grin on her face never leaving as she once again began to pack for her adventure.

~~~

The closer that Ianthe got to Bag-End the more her nerves began to talk to her. It had been nearly four days since she departed from her village, her old green cloak wrapped securely around her shoulders and her heavy pack resting against her back. The staff in her hands was old yet sturdy, weaving branches holding a single stone of greens and blues shining against the moonlight that lit her path. Despite her anxiety Ianthe hummed a small spritely tune, one that her father had sung to her as a young mage. A sad smile grew in her lips at the thought of her father. Before she had left the village and her rank of Mages Ianthe had to make sure that her father knew of her quest. But Gandalf had beaten her too it. 

Ianthe remembered the way her father's face grew solemn and the wrinkles that lined his face deepened when she met him again that day. Her heart clenched and she reached out for him, pulling him into an embrace. It was then that she decided against going; Gandalf would have to find some other mage to guide the dwarves to Erebor. Ianthe couldn’t just leave her father. It was true that the Elders had their advisors and warriors to watch over him, but Ianthe was his daughter, his family. She couldn’t just up and leave the one who had cared for her and raised her because she wanted to explore again. At the mention of her deciding against going, much to Ianthe’s surprise, her father’s frown seemed to grow.

He knew how restless she was becoming and how she longed to be out in the world again. Osier would miss his daughter, yes. But he knew that she would be of better use to the dwarves then she would be in the rank. “_ Go. Explore the world and see what it offers you once again.” _

_ “But father—“ _

_ “I will be fine.” _

Ianthe shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the negative thoughts as she came to a short stop. The grip she hand on her staff tightened as her eyes looked over the horizon of the Shire. Many of the Hobbit were asleep by now, dark tendrils of smoke climbing out of their chimneys as their hearth kept their little homes warm. Fireflies danced across the many gardens and fields that literally the Shire, making it appear that stars had fallen from the sky and were twinkling over the land. The peaceful sight brought a smile to Ianthe’s face again, and she sucked in a deep breath before continuing on her journey. The moon was high in the sky, and she was sure that she had missed the supper that her company’s host had probably provided for them. But that didn’t matter. She had an apple or two in her pack. That would keep her satisfied until morning. 

For the time she spent wandering through the Shire in search of her host’s home, Ianthe’s humming hung in the air like pillowy clouds. However despite her cheery tune and chipper smile, her feet ached from her long journey and though her magic had been revitalized from her weaving in and out of the forests and hills, her body longed for rest. Lucky seemed to be on Ianthe’s side though. She felt herself relax and the tension in her shoulders disappear little by little when she saw a glowing rune stand out against a green door. Her lips twitched as she neared the hobbit-hole. _ Finally. _ She found herself thinking, her feet suddenly carrying her and her heavy pack quicker to the entrance of the hole. 

Ianthe found herself taking the steps that led to the door in twos, and if it wasn’t for the staff in her hand she would’ve fallen against the green door. She smiled down at the familiar rune before she looked to the shiny round doorknob. If his front garden and flowers were kept so pristine and healthy looking then surely the inside of his house looked just was clean. Despite the excitement that was buzzing around in her body again Ianthe found herself hesitating, her curled fist just brushing the wood of the round door. Her bright eyes looked to the ground for a moment, her eyebrows knitting together before she reached up and tugged her hood over head. The rim of her hood just reached the bottom of her eyes, leaving her freckled nose and pink lips visible.

“Just knock.” Ianthe found herself gripping her staff tightly with both hands. Her nerves were chewing at her gut, and her hands tingled for a moment, a familiar surge of magic running through them as her anxiety spiked. “Knock and get it over with.” Gathering as much courage as she could Ianthe slammed the top of her staff into the wooden door, the sound of stone and wood hitting each other drawing whatever heated conversations were being held in the hobbit hole to a sudden stop. Ianthe made sure to keep her eyes hidden when the door opened a few seconds later, a hobbit with curly brown hair and an irritated look on his face popping into her view.

“Oh,” His eyes blew wide upon taking in her appearance. “Y-you’re not a dwarf.”

Ianthe chuckled at the hobbits comment, her hood bouncing a bit when she shook her head in reply. She remained silent as the hobbit stood aside to let her in, and she made sure to brush her boots off on the mat before stepping on to his wooden flooring. A warmth spread through Ianthe as she looked around the homely hole, her eyes dancing between mud-stained rug and the beautiful arched doorways before she found herself looking back to the hobbit. He was staring up at her in awe, his lips parted. Ianthe chuckled at the sight, the sound knocking the hobbit out of his trance before he shook his head.

“Oh goodness, where are my manners!” The hobbit scolded himself, and looking back to his new guest he gave a small bow. “Bilbo Baggins, at your service, Miss…”

“Ianthe.” She finally introduced herself. The mage watched as the hobbit tried speaking her name, a small smile forming on his lips when he watched her nod encouragingly. Ianthe found her eyes wander around Bilbo’s home again, however this time she was drawn towards a warm light that seemed to be coming from the dining area. Bilbo must’ve seen the curiosity that ran through her, as her nose twitched ever-so-slightly when she turned in that direction.

“Everyone’s already in there.” He spoke from besides her, peering up to look at her for a second before his gaze darted elsewhere. “Gandalf said you would be arriving around this time.” 

Ianthe chuckled at the comment, and she gave a small nod before heading towards the dining area. The tap of her staff and the click of her boots against the floor alerted the dwarves in the room of her coming, and Gandalf let out a small chuckle before pushing himself to stand. “And here I thought you decided against coming.” He spoke clearly, gaining the attention of each dwarf as he looked to the doorway. When Ianthe stepped into the light the company froze, each dwarf looking to this new member with a mixture of curiosity and slight contempt.

“And miss seeing the world again?” Ianthe quirked an eyebrow when she saw the dwarves flinch at her voice, but she brushed their reactions off as she turned her focus to Gandalf. “Never.”

“A woman?” Ianthe felt her blood freeze when a biting voice broke through the air, her eyes immediately landing on the brooding figure at the head of the table. Grey strands mixed together with deep raven hair that flowed effortlessly down the back of this dwarf, his deep blue eyes piercing into her as he looked between the wizard and herself. Ianthe could feel the tension in the room build the longer he glared at her, and for a second her confidence faltered, the grip on her staff tightening. “You’ve chosen a woman to be our guide?” 

Gandalf breathed heavily out of his nose when he saw Ianthe shrink into a small corner, the shadows seeming to eat her up. He felt a surge of anger run through him when he looked back to the dwarf who had spoken, his eyes blazing. “You trusted me to find the only person who could guide your company safely to Erebor, Thorin.” Ianthe’s eyes widened at the name, and she found herself glancing between the wizard and the dwarf a couple of times before she settled her gaze upon Thorin. The dwarf in question let out a low growl, his eyes only dancing over to her small figure again before he went to challenge Gandalf. “She is as good as a guide as any mage I know.”

“No. I refuse to let any woman— a girl, no less— be apart of this company.”

“Thorin please be reasonable, you will need her more than you—“

“We do not need some girl on this quest, Gandalf.” Thorin’s tone was biting, his thick eyebrows casting a shadow over his blue eyes. The Dwarven leader looked between the old wizard and the girl in question, her bright eyes and freckled nose remaining hidden under her hood for the time being. He sized the girl up, looking between the old boots laced on her feet to the dark green cloak clasped around her shoulders. The fabric nearly brushed the ground, dirt stains and holes lining the edge as if being trampled on one to many times. Thorin looked back to her hands that were laced together in front of her, his eyes narrowing at the smooth skin of her fingers and the few silver rings that sat around them. Those weren’t the hands of a warrior. 

The girl watched quietly as her old friend and the Dwarven leader argued, seemingly forgetting that she was present. She knew from stories that her father had told her that dwarves were stubborn in their ways, not really willing to open up to others outside of their kin. But man, did she underestimate what he meant. Thorin’s tongue was sharp, his words aiming to kill and dishearten the mage from wanting to join his quest. But she had made a promise to her father, a promise to go out into the world and protect those who needed it. And the dwarves needed it, she could tell. Her eyes surveyed the room of dwarves in front of her, taking in the wary looks they cast her way and the exhaustion that was slowly creeping up on them from their journey to the Shire. She frowned at this, her eyes casting to the ground before she sucked in a deep breath.

“If I may interject, Master Oakenshield.” The room of dwarves froze again when her smooth, accented voice sounded out. Everyone turned when the girl finally stepped into the light again, her fingers pulling back the edge of her hood to finally reveal her face. Her blue eyes were piercing as she looked around the room, her dark hair falling around her plump cheeks and just past her shoulders. Her dulcet tone reverberated through the small dining area, her lips turning down slightly when she set her focus back to Thorin. “Perhaps you would feel more comfortable if you knew of who I was?” Her head tilted to the side while she gripped the body of her staff, watching as the leader looked her over again.

She kept a stoic expression as he scrutinized her, taking in her apparel and lack of weapons. Not that she wasn’t armed though, he just didn’t know exactly where her weapons were hidden. After moments of speculation Thorin let out a huff, and crossing his buff arms over his chest he gave a curt nod. A ghost of a smile spread on the girls lips and after she straightened, her right hand curled into a fist before it rested against her heart, her left palm facing outwards as she pressed the back of her hand against her lower back. The dwarves watched as she gave a deep, respectful bow, her hair falling over to shield her face before she came back up again. “Ianthe, at your service.” 

She could hear the odd dwarf in the room whisper her name, another small smile forming on her lips as she turned her gaze to Gandalf for a half second. The wizard gave her an encouraging nod before she turned back to Thorin, who’s face had hardened yet again as he watched her. “My family hails from a long line of Mages— Terra Mages to be exact.” As Ianthe went about telling her story to the leader, she found herself once again watching the dwarves for their reactions. “Long have we watched over the lands of Middle Earth, though it hasn’t been until recently that we Mages have settled deep in the forests.”

“And why is that, lassie?” Ianthe’s eyes darted over to an older looking dwarf, his kind eyes hidden slightly behind white bushy eyebrows. She found herself smiling at the dwarf, for she could see genuine curiosity swimming around in old, wise eyes. Though from the way he held himself and the knowing look he sent her, Ianthe could tell he knew exactly what she was and what her story was. “Oh, let me introduce myself!” The old dwarf gave a small chuckle before bowing at the waist. “Balin, at your service lass.” 

Ianthe gave a small nod in return to Balin’s introduction, a grateful smile pulling up her lips before she turned away from him. “Decades have Mages spent their lives wandering the earth, protecting its people and the creatures that reside here.” Ianthe continued with her story, her fingers grasping one of her elbows behind her back as she looked around the room. “However the longer we wander, so our lifelines dwindle. The Elder Mages have decided it best for us to stop, to try and keep our lights from going out completely. But hope still remains for us.” Brown eyes suddenly stopped Ianthe in her tracks, a warm glow budding in her chest as she saw the kindness that swam in the orbs. This dwarf seemed different than the others, she noticed. His beard was kept short and stubbly against his jaw, his soft lips pulling into a gentle smile as he leaned across the table in curiosity.

“What hope is that?” Ianthe tore her gaze away from the dwarf as Thorin’s deep voice ran through her, her eyes meeting his before she cleared her throat. 

“The young Mages.” She spoke clearly to him. Her hands suddenly fumbled with the clasp of the pouch that was clasped to her hip, and she dug inside the leather accessory before she pulled out a smooth gem. The crystal in her hand shone brightly against the candle that sat on the table, and the dwarves eyes blew wide when shining spots danced against the walls and the ceiling of the dining area. Ianthe looked to her right when she felt a small tug against her cloak, and her smile grew when she saw their host, Bilbo Baggins, look at the gem in awe. “It’s called _ Dýnami Zoís _, or a Zōḗ Stone,” She explained, smiling fondly at the gem as she brushed a finger over the many glowing sides. “Each young mage, upon coming of age, is given a Zōḗ Stone.”

“A lifeforce.”

“Indeed, Master Baggins.” Ianthe felt proud to know that the hobbit knew a bit about the gems and their significance, her smile growing when she turned to see him looking up at her in awe. She placed a hand upon his shoulder before turning back to the dwarves and wizard, her eyes meeting a pair of dark brown ones again briefly before she turned away. “While Yavanna has given us our magic, the Zōḗ gives us our lives. And with our lives we protect those who need it.” To show her respect Ianthe placed the gem over her heart, as she had done with her fist a moment ago, and gave another deep bow. But before she had time to straighten up Thorin spoke again.

“And what do these stones have to do with your wanting to join our quest?” Thorin’s eyes were guarded again, his lips pulled into a tight line. He still didn’t quite like the idea of having this mage on his quest, and while he had heard of the stories of Mages wandering the lands of middle earth and he knew of their great power, he couldn’t seem to find himself agreeing with her coming. She was just a girl after all, she didn’t belong on this dangerous quest. Thorin held a breath, as did the rest of the room when Ianthe took a step forward, her hand held out towards him as she offered the stone to him.

“As the stone protects and guides my life, I shall protect and guide yours on this quest.” While Ianthe’s tone was quiet, barely loud enough for Thorin or the others to hear, it held a certain strength in it. The offering caused Balin to let out a sharp gasp, all eyes falling to him when he realized the severity of her words. “That is, if you shall have me, Master Oakenshield.” Ianthe ignored the shock that radiated from the older dwarfs body, her eyes locked in Thorin as he looked between her and the stone. His eyes drifted over to his advisor, his eyebrows knitting when he saw the look on his face, it was one of both shock and what appeared to be horror. Whatever Ianthe was offering him must have been something that the Mages considered precious. _ Would she really offer this lifeforce to join my company? _

Ianthe held in a breath when Thorin looked back to her, her skin burning with anticipation while his blue eyes looked her over for the third time that night. It felt like forever had gone by before he spoke again, his head dropping in a single nod. “So be it,” His words brought a sudden, quiet cheer to fall past Ianthe’s lips, his eyebrow quirking at the sound. Soft ‘thank yous’ fell past her lips as she went to place the stone into his hands, but he was quick to shake his head, his hands curling into fists to refuse the precious gem. “If you are to be a proper guide and protector, you will need your stone.” 

Ianthe felts a wave of excitement course through her veins at his words, her fingers curling tight around her stone as she nodded frantically. “Of course. Thank you, Master Oakenshield.” Her eyes inadvertently turned to the dwarves around the room, and once again she found herself looking to the brunette with deep brown eyes. His lips were parted in a wide smile as the blonde dwarf next to him spoke quietly, and suddenly she found herself blushing when he set her a wink. Ianthe’s heart thumped loudly as she looked away from him. _ What is this feeling? _ Her mind was racing with a million thoughts as she shoved her stone back into her pouch, but despite her precious thoughts of the quest all she could seem to think about now was the puppy dog-eyed dwarf with the soft smile. 

“My dear,” Gandalf was the one to pull her away from her thoughts, his beard raising as he smiled softly at her. Ianthe shuffled her way over to the wizard, tossing Bilbo a grin as she passed him before her eyes traveled up the length of Gandalf’s tall figure before she meet his eyes. His hand landed heavily on her shoulder and the look in his eyes caused the smile on her lips to vanish, a sudden wave of worry burning in her arms and legs. Ianthe ignored the burning gazes that followed her out of the dining area, and for a moment she felt tempted to look back to the brown-eyed dwarf, but she resisted the urge while Gandalf pulled her to a secluded area in the hobbit hole. “Ianthe, I know how desperately you wish to help others, but offering—“

“I know what I am doing Gandalf.” Ianthe interrupted the wizard with a raise of her hand, the silver rings on his fingers glistening against the light. Gandalf gave her a stern look, but nonetheless he let out a small sigh while he held his tongue. “If my father has taught me anything it is to follow what the heart in my chest says and where the veins in my body pull.” Though the metaphor made little sense to the wise man, he understood how the Mages felt toward quests such as the one she was about to embark on. Gandalf’s fingers curled around her shoulder fondly, giving it a small squeeze before motioning first her to head back towards the dining area. 

Ianthe gave the wizard a nod of thanks as she walked past him, her eyes glancing back into the crowded room as he meekly made her way back inside. The dwarves had settled down again, waiting for their earlier discussion to start once again until she entered, all eyes curiously watching her. Ianthe felt a blush form on her freckled cheeks, the sudden attention now causing her heart to race until another hand landed softly against her shoulder. It was Balin.

“Just sign here, Miss Ianthe.” He spoke, her eyes looking down to find a rolled piece of parchment in his fingers. Giving a single nod she grabbed the parchment before unrolling it, her eyes dancing across the long list of conditions until she reached the bottom. A quill was handed to her, a small smile forming on her lips as she went to sign it. However, she movements slowed to a stop when she glanced up again, this time her body freezing when she met the intense gaze of her Dwarven admirer. He appeared to be waiting for her to sign it, excitement being clear in his expression as he clasped his fingers together. She had to admit, the dwarf she couldn’t seem to get out of her mind was handsome, and the aura that oozed from his body was one that she had never quite seen before. He intrigued her. The two kept their gaze fixated on each other, her round cheeks darkening and her emotions swirling with each passing second while his heart raced wildly in his chest. 

It wasn’t until a hard cough sounded in the room did Ianthe tear her gaze away from the young dwarf, her cheeks a permanent red as she looked back to the contract. She scribbled her name on to the line in a hurry. Ianthe watched as the older dwarf accepted her contract graciously, her blue eyes once again drawn to the brown-eyed dwarf as the other scanned her contract. 

“It’s all here,” Ianthe quickly looked towards Thorin when Balin finished inspecting her contract, his eyes dancing between his nephew and the mage for a moment before he let out a low grumble. He shot his youngest nephew a stern look before gazing Ianthe. The mage was practically buzzing in her spot from excitement. “Welcome, Ianthe, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

  
  



	2. Traveling Once Again

Morning came to quickly for Ianthe’s taste. The little hobbit hole that she had found herself staying in for that night was more than she could’ve asked for. The one thing that Ianthe didn’t find herself missing at all after rank of mages had settled down was the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements. While yes, they had the power to make the leaves soft or to bend branches to form a small bed frame, that didn’t necessarily mean that it was comfortable to sleep on. So when she left for her journey to the Shire Ianthe made sure to pack her most comfortable bedroll. Yet that still didn’t seem to do much for her old bones and aching back. However the small chair that she had managed to snag the night before felt like a cloud compared to her usual rocky bed.

The sun crept through the window and warmed up Ianthe’s body. Mornings never were her favorite thing, and it wasn’t often that her father had to go back multiple times to wake her up. Her usual protests to being woken up so early were kept quiet as she stirred in her chair, a soft groan falling past her lips before she racked a hand over her face. Sleep still clouded her eyes as she craned her neck to look around the room, and it took a few moments— even when she pressed her fingers against her eyelids and rubbed them for a second— for her vision. Ianthe was quick to smooth down her hair when she realized that just about every dwarf was still situated in the small living area, loud snores almost shaking the support beams of the hobbit hole. If it wasn’t for the fact that one loud dwarf was snoozing next to her chair, she was sure she would’ve trampled him as she went to stood. 

Ianthe remained quiet as she set her toes against the wooden floor. Her eyes were still clouded with sleep, making it a bit more difficult to maneuver her way through the maze of dwarves that slept silently in the room. Yet somehow she managed to make it out into the hallway without disturbing a single dwarf. Ianthe gently patted down her hair again, feeling the twist strands behind her head pull at her scalp when she went to untangle them. Aside from the snores in the room behind her, the hobbit hole was completely silent. Ianthe felt herself slowly begin to wake up more as she looked around the hallway, her eyes taking in the way the various shades of browns, reds and greens of Bilbo’s home glistened against the sunlight that came pouring in through a small window at the front of his house. A small hum fell past her lips as she turned in her feet, little to no sound coming from her steps as she neared the front door. Maybe a little fresh air would help to wake her up even more. 

Ianthe still worked at untangling her messy hair as she pried the round green door open, and she couldn’t help the happy sigh that fell past her lips when the sun hit her square in the face. As she stepped quietly out on to the porch she closed her eyes, her chest expanding when she sucked in a deep breath. The air drifted into her lungs with a pleasurable sting, and she felt a smile pull up her lips when she smelled flowers mingle in with the morning air. Ianthe felt her body buzz with a sudden energy as the sun danced across her skin. It was true that she didn’t like waking up in the morning, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t like mornings in general. 

“You’re up a bit early, lass.” 

Ianthe’s concentration was broken when a kind voice floated through the air, her eyes opening and catching the sunlight when she turned to her company. “I am quite surprised myself, Master Balin.” Ianthe returned the warm smile that the white-haired dwarf sent her, her hand falling away from her messy hair after finally untangling the brown strands from the blonde, nearly white ones that sat near her temples. Balin watched the mage closely as she turned back to the front, her hand grasping her elbow behind her back as she yet again inhaled a deep breath. The dwarf has noticed the two different colors in her hair the night before, and he saw how the roots of blonde portion seemed lighter against her skin. He couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone, whether dwarf or human, having to shades of hair like that, especially making the skin in the surrounding area lighter.

“Do you figure we’ll depart soon?” Balin felt his eyes drift away from the girls hair and to her face as she smiled at him. Ianthe had turned to face him, this time only half of her body facing him whine the other faced that of Bilbo’s front garden. Now fully awake, Ianthe felt a pull in her gut to wander again, letting her feet carry her around the lovely Shire for as long as possible until it was time for them to leave.

“Some time after breakfast, I would say.” Balin watched as Ianthe bristled with joy at his reply, his bushy eyebrows quirking when she bounced on her feet. The old dwarf felt his heart clench at the youthfulness that the mage carried with her, and even though he knew that she was probably much, much older than her was, he couldn’t help but think of her as a little niece. Her excitement was bubbling more and more as she looked down Bilbo’s front garden and on to the winding pathways that led towards the Shire’s town square. “Do you want to go into the town, Ianthe?”

“Oh, please, can I?” Ianthe’s voice was laced with a pleasing tone, and her finger became laced together in front of her as she looked towards Balin for approval. “I promise I will be back before we intend to leave!” 

“Go on now, I’ll inform the others where you’re headed off to.” 

Ianthe let out the smallest of cheers as she bounced around, her eyes now wide awake and full of an adventuring spirit. Balin couldn’t help but laugh at the Mages excitement, and he watched silently as she bounced down the steps, crashed through the little front gate and dashed down the dirt pathway. His fingers brushed over his beard as he watched her run, however his eyebrows quirked when she slid to a stop, her hair whipping around as she spun around to face him again. Her thick fingers were raised into the air as she waved frantically, her lips spread in a contagious grin before she started down the path again. Balin kept his eyes on the young girl as she disappeared behind a rather sharp bend in the road, and his lips were kept into a small smile even when someone cleared their throat, making their presence known from beside him. 

“Quite an interesting lass, isn’t she?” Balin finally turned to face his friend, his neck craning back a bit as he went to look at the old wizard in the eyes. Gandalf gave a quiet hum of agreement while he pulled out his pipe. “Pray tell, Gandalf. What possessed you to think of her as our guide?” 

“Hm, well for many reasons, Mister Balin.” Gandalf felt his chest warm when he thought back to his time with the Terra Mages. Such a lovely people, always welcoming and warm to those who stopped by and also willing to lend a helping hand to those in need. “You heard of her story last night,” Gandalf paused, his eyes glancing down to the white-bearded dwarf as he nodded. “Mages were made to wander. Staying in one place, while not entirely harmful to them, is just not healthy. I have known Ianthe and her father for many years, and her desire to wander again was widely known amongst her rank.” 

Balin turned his eyes back to the path for a moment, his eyes trailing down the dirt road until he reached the main market square. He had to strain a bit to see, but Ianthe’s hair could be seen bouncing around her round face as she danced between the different stalls and booths in the market. “I’ve wondered, Mister Gandalf,” Balin cleared his throat after a few moments of silence had passed, clasping his hands behind his back as he waited for Gandalf to acknowledge his small comment. Once the wizard had nodded for him to continue, Balin sucked in a small breath. “Ianthe’s hair… Now I’m usually not one to pry in matters such as this, but it is quite odd.” Balin was hesitant to speak about her hair, as he knew that in dwarven culture hair was a touchy and most respected subject. But Ianthe wasn’t a dwarf, and from what he knew about Mages their hair wasn’t nearly as important. 

“Ah, yes. Inherited it from her mother.” 

The tone in Gandalf’s voice was tight and remorseful, his lips spread in a tight line around his pipe. Balin frowned at this. Despite the curiosity that sparked deep in his veins, Balin kept quiet about the subject of Ianthe’s mother. If he wanted to know more, then he would have to ask her personally about it. The two of them kept quiet after that, Gandalf smoking his pipe as both he and Balin soaked up the bright sun and the greenery of the Shire. It wasn’t long before someone called them in for breakfast, to which they both turned and entered Bilbo’s home again. Ianthe’s presence, or lack thereof didn’t go unnoticed by the company. But after much reassurance from both Balin and Gandalf that she would return before they were to leave, which earned a few grumbles from Thorin, they dove right into their breakfast. 

~~~

Nearly an hour later and not only was the sun beating down on the Shire, but Ianthe was feeling a bit overwhelmed as she followed behind the dwarves. After her little journey into the Shire’s market, she came stumbling back into the little hobbit home with her arms filled with a variety of goodies. Gandalf raised an eyebrow at her frazzled state and filled arms, as he knew she rarely carried any form of money on her, but didn’t question the delighted grin that was on her face. Many of the dwarves moved aside as she rushed over to her pack. The items in her hands fell to the floor with a rather loud clang, but Ianthe didn’t seem to care as she forced her new items into her bag. The mage seemed to ignore the curiosi glances that were shot her way as she removed, added, then reorganized the contents of her pack, and it wasn’t until some cleared their throat did she finally acknowledge the dwarves presence.

“We are set to leave within the next fifteen minutes.” Thorin’s voice made Ianthe freeze as she looked up to him from her crouched position. “I would suggest getting ready.” 

Ianthe’s eyes blew wide and she stumbled on to her feet. She suddenly felt subconscious about her appearance, as she still had yet to fix her hair and straighten out her clothing from the night before. “Of course. Right away, Master Oakenshield.” Ianthe gave a series of nods before she turned back to her pack, and before pushing her way past Thorin she grabbed a small personal bag and a hairbrush. However the dwarf caught her quickly by the upper arm, pulling her back slightly. She froze against his sudden touch, her bright eyes growing the slightest bit while she looked between his hand and her arm. 

“You do not need to address me that way.” Thorin, despite still not fully accepting the fact that a girl would be accompanying him and his company, spoke softly to her. Deep down he was grateful to have the mage in his side, leading them down a safe path to get to Erebor. Balin had informed him of how much of a necessity Ianthe would be on their quest. Of course, Gandalf made sure to put in his thoughts and knowledge of the Mages and how connected they were to the land. “Thorin will do just fine.” 

Ianthe felt her lips pull into a smile at his words. The grip on her arm loosened until he finally let her go, and she gave him a small nod after curling her right fist and setting it over her heart. “Of course. I’ll shall be ready to go in ten minutes.” She spoke softly. Thorin gave a soft grunt in satisfaction before he turned on his heel, and he made his way out of the hobbit hole to allow her time to get ready. 

As she had said, Ianthe was dressed and ready to go within ten minutes. Everyone watched as she stumbled out of the hobbit hole, a hand holding tightly on to her pack as the other quietly shut the door behind her. She felt a bit saddened to hear that Bilbo wouldn’t be joining them. But it was his choice, she reasoned with herself, if the hobbit felt uncomfortable going out into the world than so be it. Ianthe forced a smile on to her lips when the felt the eyes of her new company on her, and when Thorin called for her, she kept her head down while she made her way towards him. On the odd chance that she did look up to sievert the dwarves, Ianthe noticed how a pair of deep brown eyes seemed to be boring into her. It was the same dwarf from last night. He seemed more lively today, his eyes swimming with excitement and his lips pulled into a grin. Maybe it was from getting some rest the night before. 

“Once we reach the border of the Shire you will take the lead.” Thorin’s voice rang through her ears, breaking her out of her thoughts and pulling her attention to him. Ianthe gave a single nod and she tightened her fingers around her staff. Thorin rose an eyebrow when he watched her tense, but he quickly shook his curiosity off before he looked back to his company. “Let’s get a move on!” 

It wasn’t even twenty minutes later that Ianthe found herself riding next to Gandalf. The pony she was riding had been graciously given to her by the wizard, and she couldn’t help but grow fond of the black and white speckled horse. Seeing as she was a bit taller than the dwarves she had to ride a horse, for she felt bad if she was to ride on a little pony. The mage let her eyes wonder for a moment, her gaze falling on to each of the dwarves. They definitely were the most odd group of dwarves. While on dwarf seemed to be the size of a boulder, with a mess of auburn hair atop his head and braided down to his belly, another was quite small, his light brown hair seeming to shine in the sun whenever he shifted to fix his knitted sweater. Ianthe found her interest, however, lie in the dwarf that had been watching her the night before. She had a feeling that he, along with the blonde dwarf that was always by his side, were related to Thorin in some way.

“Gandalf,” Ianthe called, her curiosity finally getting the better of her. She turned her head to see the wizard already looking at her, his pipe lit and held in between his lips. “That dwarf there—“ She pointed a couple of fingers in his general direction, her lips twitching the slightest bit. “Who is he?”

Gandalf followed her fingers and his eyes found themselves landing on Kili. A laugh tumbled from his lips after a short second of observation and when he finally looked back to Ianthe, his eyebrows raised under the rim of his hat. “That, my dear Ianthe, is Kili Durin.” Ianthe founded herself looking back to the young dwarf when Gandalf went on to explain more, her bright eyes looking over him and the weapons of his that were visible. “Next to him is his older brother Fili, heir to the throne of Erebor.” Her eyes widened at the sudden revelation. 

“I thought they resembled Master Oak— I mean Thorin.”

“Yes, they are the sons of Thorin’s sister.” Ianthe nodded her head in understanding. Her fingers absentmindedly ran over the cracks and crevices that littered her staff while she looked back to Kili, and her eyes blew wide when she realized he was already looking back to her. Upon seeing that she was looking he spared her a wink, his teething poking out under his lips as he smiled when he saw her cheeks flush. Ianthe found herself soon smiling back at the dwarf. She thought it would’ve been rude to look away just yet, even though her heart was thumping loudly in her chest, so she held his gaze for a moment longer. Kili’s smile never fell from his face as he looked to the mage, his eyes shining with playfulness for a moment until he looked away when his brother nudged him in the leg. 

“They look young.” Ianthe spoke, spurring her horse forward a bit to keep up with Gandalf’s pace. The wizard nodded his head in agreement, but kept silent for the time being. The two fell into a comfortable silence, Ianthe keeping herself from falling into boredom by watching the scenery change when Gandalf suddenly began to hum a small tune. Ianthe felt herself smoke at the familiar song, and she almost caught herself singing along with him. However she instead took to looking back down the path, her eyes watching the disappearing Shire with a heavy heart. She surely would’ve liked to have the small hobbit accompany them. Ianthe had never really interacted with the homely race, and she often wished that her and her rank would’ve stayed longer with the hobbits when they still traveled. She didn’t have much of a chance to speak with Bilbo the night before, as he seemed to grow quite frustrated at their intrusion in his home. 

“Do you think Bilbo will change his mind, Gandalf?” The mage turned her attention back to the old wizard for the second time. “Surely he wouldn’t pass up this wonderful opportunity to travel, would he?” A few of the dwarves had heard her question to Gandalf, and it seemed that almost immediately they tried to counter her. Many of them seemed doubtful of the hobbit, saying that he didn’t belong outside of the Shire or that he wouldn’t last more than a day in the wild. Others, and Ianthe quite agreed with this lot, argued back and claimed that Bilbo would come along, whether it be sooner or later, and that he would fit in quite nicely. Ianthe smiled at this. Though she wasn’t exactly sure what Bilbo’s thoughts on being in the wild were, as she had lived more than half her life in the forest and wandering the land. But deep down she felt he belonged with them, even if he was hesitant to come. 

“Oh, I think he’ll come.” Gandalf’s voice broke Ianthe away from a pair of arguing dwarves, and she caught the mischievous glint one his eyes as he smiled to her. Once again the dwarves began to argue over the wizards statements and soon enough Ianthe found herself laughing along with the wizard as the company put up bets against the poor hobbit. When a dwarf with a particular funky looking hat asked her if she wanted to add on to their wagers, she politely declined. It seemed that the father along the path they traveled, the more lively the dwarves become and the more chatter she heard.

The wagers and laughter soon died down when Bofur, the one with the funky hat, made a certain comment, which earned him a sharp smack on the back of the head from someone with an axe in his forehead. Ianthe could take help but laugh at the interaction, and after a few moments of watching the dwarves settle down again she spurred her horse forward. She was beginning to recognize the area they were in, and the greenery soon grew thicker than usual as they traveled further away from the Shire. She spotted Thorin up ahead as he spoke lowly with Balin and to get his attention she let out a shrill whistle. Everyone seemed to jump a bit at the sudden noise and some of the horse let out startled whines, but Ianthe ignored the dwarves grumbles as she looked to Thorin. She gave a small nod while tightening her grip on the reins of her horse, it’s hooves clipping against the dirt and stone path as she rode closer to him. Thorin seemed to understand what she was doing and returned her nod before slowing his pony a bit.

However, Ianthe neared him they were suddenly stopped by a wild cry that carried all the way up to Thorin. “Wait! Wait!” Ianthe brought her horse to a halt as she turned her body, and her lips spread into a grin as she let out a laugh. In the distance she could see a figure running quickly towards them. Ianthe looked to Gandalf as the hobbit grew closer, his large feet carrying him closer to the dwarves until he slid to a stop in front of Balin and his pony. “I-I’ve signed it!” The hobbit thrust his hand into the air as he tried to regain his breath, and clasped between his fingers was an unrolled piece of parchment, similar to that which Ianthe had signed. 

Balin let out a small hum as he gave the hobbit a pointed look, yet he still grabbed a hold of the contract with one hand as the other reached for an eye glass. Ianthe soothed her horse when it suddenly let out a whine, it’s head bobbing up in down as impatience seemed to course through the animal. The mage kept quiet as Balin continued to inspect the contract, her eyes dancing from the hobbit that was still catching his breath to the two dwarves who she had stopped beside; Fili and Kili. She felt a smile spread across her lips when she looked to the brothers, meeting Fili’s eyes for a quick second before she opened her mouth to speak, however Balin beat her to the punch.

“Everything appears to be in order,” Balin called out to Thorin. The leader seemed annoyed at the appearance of the hobbit, and when he bristled and turned away Ianthe felt a bout of irritation course through her. “Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.” 

Ianthe turned away from Thorin when he let out a small scoff, and soon enough he called out for someone to get Bilbo a pony. “Is he always this grumbly?” Ianthe fully turned her gaze up the dwarven brothers next to her for the first time. They both seemed a bit shocked to hear her speak to them, and the pair shared a quick look before Fili cleared his throat. 

“Not always,” 

“Though, most of the time he is.” The snicker that came from Kili caused the mage to look to him, their gazes locking for a brief moment before she too laughed at the comment. Soon after Bilbo became situated on his pony they started off on their journey again, yet instead of riding up to Thorin like she had planned beforehand, she stuck by the brothers. The three of them chatted for the next while, neither of them breaking their attention even when Bilbo called for them to stop, insisting that they turn back so he could grab his beloved handkerchief. Ianthe sympathized with the little hobbit while a few of the dwarf sniggered at him. She understood how hard it must’ve been to leave his home to join them on this journey, to pack up and go off with a company he didn’t quite know. 

The next couple of hours consisted of Ianthe and the brothers conversing, and even when they had reached the edge of the Shire and Ianthe rode to the front of the company, they stayed by her side. Gandalf and Balin shared a knowing look when they watched the three bond, more so when Kili seemed to be more active in his talking than Fili. Either way Ianthe seemed happy to interact with them, and it made Gandalf a bit more relaxed knowing that she got along with the young dwarves well. Thorin seemed to take notice of his youngest nephews fascination with their guide, and while part of him told him to scold him for acting in such a way, the better part of him held back. This quest was dangerous and sobering, and he desperately wished for his nephews to remain happy and unharmed. So for the moment he allowed them to joking around with Ianthe, as he knew not when something might come around and rip the happiness from their hearts. 

The day was well spent as the company journeyed further away from the Shire and deeper into the forest. Many of the dwarves has introduced themselves to the mage leading them down a safe path, and it seemed to them that the deeper they journeyed into the thick foliage, the more lively she grew. Her eyes were wide and bright as she explained to Ori how The some of the trees near her rank grew large and strong, their roots spreading deep in the earth and sometimes even growing together with a neighboring tree. She often found herself speaking of how the Mages and their magic worked, and sometimes, when persuaded enough, she would demonstrate for the company. Everyone was entranced by the glowing of her eyes whenever she spoke a certain enchantment, and even Thorin found his gaze dancing over her skin whenever long trails of lightning seemed to crawl up her arms to her shoulders, neck and round cheeks. The mage truly was an interesting part of the company. 

Thorin’s doubts regarding letting her join his company slowly disappeared as the day went on. Though it was only the first day of their journey she had proven herself useful to him and the other dwarves. About mid-afternoon Thorin had called for them to stop for a quick break, yet it seemed that no clearing was available for them to rest. Ianthe shook her head soon after Nori had announced what everyone was thinking, and a smile formed on her face before she grabbed her staff and pointed it to the left. A quick string of foreign words flew past her lips and her eyes glowed yellow. Loud cracks and snaps echoed through the quiet forest as the white markings crawled up her body, and soon enough, much to everyone’s shock, several trees had been reduced to little saplings and bushes had been cleared to their left, creating a clearing for them to lead their ponies. Gandalf watched, amusement clear in his features, as everyone soon bombarded Ianthe with questions about the extent of her magic. 

The company soon quieted down once they started their journey again, Ianthe back in the leading potion with the brothers by her side. After hours of traveling in the blazing sun the air began to cool as the day came to a close. Fili and Kili had eventually fallen back to converse with Balin and Thorin soon took their place. Ianthe gave the leader a small hum to acknowledge his presence, and a silence lingered in the air before he spoke of finding, or creating if needs be in her case, another clearing for them to rest for the night. Ianthe agreed almost immediately, as she could feel the pain in her tailbone from riding to long and exhaustion grow in her body. Moments later she was leading the company to a natural clearing, and same as earlier a series of cheers from the tired dwarves sounded out. 

Everyone was quick to spread out and set their packs down and unroll their bedrolls. Ianthe stayed closer to the edge of camp while they did so, out of habit to make sure her new friends were safe. A fire was started by those who had finished sitting up first, and by the time Ianthe felt comfortable with the camp, dinner had been served. She accepted the bowl of hot soup that was offered to her with a thankful smile, and while she usually wasn’t one to usually like a vegetable stew, odd for a mage she realized long ago, it was quite tasty. A few of the other dwarves seemed to share her opinion. Some picked and prodded at the green soup, yet upon realizing that most were too tired to go hunting they sucked it up and ate what was offered. After supper was finished and the moon was high in the sky Ianthe finally settled down. At first she had planned on sleeping closer to the trees, hoping that the leaves and fresh soil that had been kicked up would provide some cushion to her bedroll, but she soon found her idea impossible to reach when Fili and Kili grabbed her, quite literally, and ushered her over to where they had set up for the night.

“Can’t have you sitting by yourself, now can we.” Fili had told her, a gorgeous smile pulling up his lips after taking her pack from her hands and setting it down next to his. Ianthe gave the brothers a thankful nod when Kili took her bedroll and began to spread it out for her, the grip on her staff tightening again when he too smiled. Something about his smile seemed to make her heart jolt, for what reason she didn’t quite understand but it wasn’t a bad reason, she figured. 

After helping them set her things up Ianthe found her back pressed against a rock as she sat next to Fíli, the golden-haired dwarf smoking silently while she ran her thick fingers over the wood of her staff. Kili sat in front of the two, using the firelight to mess around with something in his hands. Many of the dwarves had fallen asleep, if not all of them except for the two brothers and the mage. Ianthe felt content and happy with the progress they had made that day and though she wish they could have made it a bit further before stopping, she was grateful that Thorin had asked her to find them a place to rest. A smile formed on Ianthe’s face when she looked around the camp at the sleeping dwarves, and a laugh fell from her lips when she saw little Bilbo sneaking an apple into the mouth of his pony. He looked around, hoping that no one had noticed his treat for the animal yet when he locked gazes with Ianthe, she pressed a finger over her lips and tossed him a wink. 

The playfulness was short lived, however, as a startling scream echoed through the peaceful night. Ianthe felt her blood freeze at the terrifying scream, and for a second the white markings flashed over her skin out of panic. Bilbo jumped in his spot, stumbling as he hurried back closer to the campsite where protection was. “What was that?” The hobbit questioned, looking at the three who were wide-awake in fear. Ianthe tensed inched spot and her hand gripped her staff lightly. 

“Orcs.” Was Kili’s solemn reply, yet Ianthe found it odd that a hint of something else laced his words. Almost like a poisoned arrow hit his chest Thorin gasped for breath as he was startled awake, eyes wide and alert as he sat up. More dwarves began to wake up upon hearing of the ghastly creatures, went Ianthe keep her eyes locked on the horizon, her ears listening for anymore screams.

“Orcs?”

“Throat-Cutters,” Fili spike up from besides Ianthe, and he shot her a quick look before looking back to the curious, yet still utterly terrified hobbit in front of him. “There will be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them.” 

Ianthe hated to hear of such a thing, but it was true. After the Mages has settled in the forest and other woody areas, many of the Orcs had taken a hold of some of the lowlands and open plains. She remembered a time when the Mages watched over the people that lived there, yet when some of the Elders turned from them and decided that they would no longer wander the lands and protect it, she grew angry. Yet Ianthe couldn’t find the courage to leave and help those. She felt like a coward. 

“They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone’s asleep.” There was that time again in Kili’s voice as he spoke, a tone that caused a frown to form on Ianthe’s face. Was he really joking about something like Orcs? Surely, he wouldn’t. “Quick and quiet; no screams, just lots of blood.” Sure enough after he finished speaking Kili looked back to his brother and Ianthe, a joking smile spreading in his lips. Ianthe, however, didn’t find his words amusing at all. The frown on her face deepened when the prince and her locked gazes for a second, and her impassive stars caused his smile to falter. How could he joke about something like this? 

Whenever she remembered the people that her and her rank had abandoned and left to the Orcs cruelty she felt instant guilt and anger eat away at her heart. And here was someone who could just openly joke about something as bad as an orc-raid. It made her blood boil. 

“You think that’s funny?” Thorin’s biting tone caused Kili to look away from the angered mage, his brown eyes widening when he turned to see his uncle stalking over to them. Ianthe lowered her gaze to fire as her leader scolded the foolish prince. “You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?” Kili felt immediate regret for his words as he recoiled a bit, his hair falling in front of his face as he turned from his uncle. He found himself looking back to Ianthe while his uncle glared holes into his body, and the frown that had formed on his face deepened when she refused to meet his gaze. 

“We didn’t mean anything by it.” Kili finally responded after a short while, turning to look at his uncle once more. 

“No, you didn’t.” Ianthe felt a wave of coldness wash over her at the ugly tone in Thorin’s voice. She looked up just in time to see the raven-haired dwarf cast one last flare towards his youngest nephew, his lips turned up in a cruel snarl. “You know nothing of the world.” He spat, spinning on his heel and stomping back towards where he had chosen to sleep. Despite her earlier anger towards the prince Ianthe felt herself feel sorry for Kili. It was true that yes, Kili’s words were foolish and that he shouldn’t have made a joke about such a sensitive subject, but Thorin’s words affected the young dwarf greatly, Ianthe could see. Kili’s shoulders were haunched forward now as he stared at the ground, and from the angle she was sitting in she could see that a deep flush had crawl up his neck and settled on his cheeks under his stubble. 

“Don’t mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs.” Ianthe turned her gaze to Balin as he began to speak, her fingers having dropped her staff a moment ago so she could bring her knees to her chest. Fili gave her shoulder a small nudge before he nodded to his brother, but she merely shook her head knowingly, giving the golden prince a knowing look before she turned her focus upon Balin again. “After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first.” Ianthe listen closely to the old dwarf as he began recalled the terrible tale. Everyone in her rank, and among the other ranks as well, had heard of the horrific battle for Moria, and for once she felt proud to have heard from her father that some of the Mages that resides near the mountain were wise enough to offer their help. 

“Moria has been taken by legions of Orcs led by the most vile of their race; Azog the Defiler..” Ianthe felt a chill run through her spine at the name, and her eyes drifted over to Thorin’s figure as Balin continued. “The giant Gundabad Orc has sworn to wipe out the line Durin, and he began by beheading the king.” Though it went unnoticed by most in the company, as they were paying Balin the utmost attention, Ianthe watched as Thorin flinched at the memory of the terrible day. She frowned, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to comfort him. “Thrain, Thorin’s father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless.” Balin’s voice was strained for a moment before he paused, but he looked back to the company and continued on. “Death and defeat were upon us. _ That _ is when I saw him, a young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield.” Ianthe’s lips fell apart in awe as the story continued. Thorin’s tale of facing the Pale Orc was a story that was often told by the light of a fire within her rank of Mages, but for some reason, the bard always seemed to have forgotten to mention _ that _ part in particular. 

Once again Ianthe found herself looking towards the Dwarven king in wonder, and this time she found her heart beating wildly for a different purpose. The respect she held for the dwarf at the beginning of the quest had doubled as the fateful tale was told. “Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken.” Not wanting to miss a thing Ianthe looked back to Balin, only this time she found self gripping on to Fili’s forearm in anticipation. “Our forces rallied, and with the help of the few Terra Mages—“ Ianthe felt herself flush when a few pair of eyes looked to her. She had nothing to do with it, but she still felt proud. “— drove the Orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated.” Ianthe wanted let out a small cheer for hearing for the umpteenth time of the dwarves victory, but she kept quiet when Balin went to continue. “But there was no feast nor song that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then, there is one who I could follow,” Balin paused, a grievous smile on his lips as he looked to Thorin, the rest of the company following suit and looking towards the dwarf with awe and admiration. “There is one, I could call king.” 

A silence fell over the camp as the company looked towards their leader. A new understanding ran through the dwarves at the sorry that was told, and Ianthe found herself holding in a breath, for she feared any sudden noise would break the intensity of the moment. Bilbo, however, was still as curious as ever, his eyes dancing between Balin and Thorin before he spoke up. “And the pale Orc?” He questioned. “What happened to him?”

Thorin stepped forward this time, eyes blazing with a past rage and fists clenched by his sides. “He slunk back into the hole whence he came.” Thorin’s features seemed deeper and filled with sadness as the fire cast a shadow over his face. Ianthe felt herself curling her fingers tighter around Fili’s forearm as the leaders piercing gaze swept around the company. “That filth died of his wounds long ago.” With that being said he turned back around and stalked off to cool down. Ianthe turned her gaze towards Fili once the excitement from the story had died down, her blue eyes meeting his for a moment before he gave the back of her hand a small pat. 

“You seemed to know that story well.” He told her quietly, his eyes dancing away from her freckles face and towards the others who were settling down again. Fili could recall seeing her nod along to the story as Balin went on, sometimes evening mouthing the same words as he did, and he couldn’t help the curiosity that coursed through him at that. Ianthe’s hair bobbed up and down when she nodded. “But how? That story surely is older than you are.” 

Upon hearing her chuckle at the comment Kili turned to look at the mage. Her mood had, despite the sobering story, seemed to lighten significantly since he lasted looked to her. “I have heard that tale almost a thousand times before.” When the Kili shot her a look of disbelief she smirked. “Like dwarves, we Mages age slower than normal. Some would even call us a cousin to the Elven race.” Ianthe chuckled when the brother shared a look, and it seemed to her that neither of them believed her words. Gandalf had heard her little explanation and shot the mage a knowing look, yet she waved it off as she leaned forward, pressing her elbows against her crossed knees. “It is true! I would wager that I am older than everyone in this company— well, aside from Gandalf that is.” 

“Oh really?” Kili gave her a challenging look, and he too leaned forward, moving his face just a bit closer to hers. Though they were still a few feet apart. “And how old are you exactly, Miss Ianthe?” 

The mage paused for a quick moment as she recoiled from the prince, her eyes looking upwards and her mouth moving silently as she did the math in her head. The brothers once again locked eyes with one another, neither one of them believing the girl in front of them was truly that old. If she had been a dwarf they were sure she wouldn’t be much older than them, if she even was as old as them. A few more moments of silence from the mage passed and she looked down to her ringed fingers, counting off of them for a second before she looked back up. The brothers leaned forward to hear her answer. “Well it seems I’ve quite forgotten when my last birthday was,” Ianthe let out a sheepish grin as she rubbed her palms together, and Kili couldn’t help the flutter in his chest and the laugh he let out when he saw a deep red flood her freckled cheeks. His eyes grew wide, however, when she spoke again, and he looked to Fili as he choked on air. “But I do believe my last birthday marked my five-hundredth and thirty-first year of being here.”

“You have got to be joking!” Ianthe scrambled forward and pressed her hand over Kili’s mouth at his exclamation, her eyes widening with a bit of fear as she looked around the company. Many dwarves had finally fallen asleep again, and she preferred to not be the center of their rage if they were to be woken up again. Kili’s eyes went wide for a second as well when Ianthe appeared in front of him. Her fingers were curled behind his head and ever-so-slightly into his hair as she silenced him with her other hand, and for a moment he froze when his heart jolted in his chest at how she was practically on his lap. She was so close to him now. His eyes danced over her features; he could see the freckles that lined her round cheeks and nose clearly, almost like the stars that shone brightly against the night sky. Her blue eyes were speckled with the slightest bit of grey, like clouds that blew around the bright blue sky. Kili felt his throat close up suddenly when she locked eyes with him, his skin suddenly burning bright red. 

“You must be more quiet, Kili!” After what felt like hours Ianthe finally removed her hand from his mouth, her fingers drawing around from the hack of his neck and releasing his hair slowly. The prince found himself wanting to suddenly grab her and hold her close again, the feeling of her thick fingers brushing over his hair and neck sending tingles through his body. But he didn’t. He did, however, narrow his eyes at Fili as he laughed at the wide-eyed look he had sent the mage. “We shouldn’t wake the others.” 

“It’s not his fault you’re so old.” That comment earned Fili a single, yet very firm punch to the shoulder from Ianthe as he chuckled. The blonde prince ruffled Ianthe’s hair for a second after dodging another punch, his fingers grabbing a hold of her wrist firmly before he wriggled a finger over her nose. “Relax now, Ianthe. You should get some rest. I doubt tomorrow will be much easier than today was.” 

Ianthe quite agreed with his statement. Her body had been calling for much needed sleep since he had finished her soup, yet Balin’s story had robbed her of that. Now though, as the warm fire crackled lightly and the stars prod used a comforting light above their heads Ianthe felt sleep call to her again. She gave a small nod in agreement to Fili before she pushed her staff further away from her, her body sliding down into her bedroll before she grabbed her blanket and brought it close to her chin. Ianthe found herself looming towards the brothers as they soon follow suit and settled down next to her, Fili on her left and Kili on her right. She felt a warmth grow in her chest when she looked towards the youngest prince, their eyes locking again before she smiled sweetly at him. 

“Sleep well, young princes. May the Valar watch over us tonight and guide our dreams.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you enjoyed this chapter!! Don’t forget to leave a comment/feedback, and a kudos if you haven’t already!! Thank you guys!!


	3. Bad Day and A Bad Night

Weeks had passed now, and it seemed that most everyone in the group was well-acquainted. Ianthe had found herself a lovely new title amongst the group of dwarves, one that even though she didn’t seem to take too well too at first, had slowly grown accustomed to them calling for her that way. _ Gehyith _ is what they called her. Oddly enough it was Bifur that had referred to her as such first. The nickname for the mage came to be one night as they all told stories around a blazing fire, and it just so happened to be Ianthe’s turn. She never really did think that she was a great story teller, but after the company continuously pestered her, she gave in. Not having any idea about what story to tell, Ianthe decided to instead tell them about the Mages and her rank.

It was only hours after she had finished the story that Bifur made mention of the nickname to his brother Bofur, who almost immediately agreed. Soon enough word spread around the camp and by the next day the dwarves found themselves all calling her that. Seeing as she doesn’t know much about the dwarvish language, Ianthe was confused at first. It took her a couple of tries to sound it out, and then a couple more tries to get the pronunciation down too. Another day had passed of them calling her that Khuzdul nickname before she finally found out. 

“Kili, can I ask you a question?” Kili’s pony had fallen into step with Ianthe’s horse up front, and almost immediately the mage turned to him. “You don’t have to tell me… if you don’t want too but… I’m confused.”

Kili quirked an eyebrow at the mage as he turned to look at her. Ianthe’s eyes were bright and curious, as they always seemed to be, yet they seemed to be swimming with a small bout of worry too. The skin of her cheeks seemed to shift as her teeth chewed on the inside of her mouth, her nose twitching the slightest bit whenever she felt Kili’s eyes glance over her face. “Go ahead.” The prince finally spoke, giving a small nod before he turned his gaze forward. His heart was already thumping loudly in his chest from staring at her features for too long, and only after he quickly swiped his sweaty palms against his trousers did he turn back to her.

Ianthe seemed hesitant to speak at first. Her eyes were downcast and a deep flush had settled upon her freckled cheeks, almost from embarrassment. “I-I’m sure you’ve heard what’s been going around in the company.” After moments of silence she spoke again, her hair flying around her face whenever she went to look back to Kili. Only when she saw the look of confusion swim in his brown eyes did she sputter out the next part. “T-the nickname, I mean! _ Gehyith? _What does it mean?” 

_ “ _Ooh,” Kili let out a long hum while he nodded his head in understanding. The still off pronunciation made the prince chuckle a bit, but he couldn’t help but admire the mage for her dedication to sounding out the word. “It means little dove,” He informed, keeping his eyes ahead for a few seconds before he glanced over to her. Ianthe’s lips were now parted, the ends turning up in a small smile while puffing her round cheeks out and her eyes were now shining again. The sight itself made Kili want to reach over and smooth his fingers over her skin, just to see how soft her plump, freckled cheeks felt underneath his calloused hands. But he shook the thought off, and instead leaned his head a bit closer to whisper something. “I think it’s quite fitting,” Kili felt quite proud when he saw Ianthe’s cheek fill with color again at his compliment. “But don’t tell anyone I told you. Khuzdul is really only known by dwarves and no one else outside of their kin.” 

Ianthe couldn’t take help but suck in a deep breath at the information, and she nodded her head frantically before straightening up again. “Got it! My lips are sealed!” She told him, eyes blowing wide for a moment before she turned her attention away from him and to the path she was leading them down. Kili held in a chuckle at the Mage’s adorable reaction, his hands tightening around his ponies reins before he too looked forward. After that the pair fell into a comfortable silence. Every once in a while Kili would find himself glancing over to her, making sure to commit her smooth and plump features to memory. The prince wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the mage had definitely grown on him, and it wasn’t often that he kept his gaze off of her. She was absolutely breathtaking to him. Kili found her magic mesmerizing to say the least, and whenever he saw her eyes glow yellow or her markings crawl up her body he couldn’t help but freeze in awe. One thing that he found most interesting and magical, besides her stormy eyes and star-like freckles, was her hair. 

Everyone in the group had taken immediate notice to the odd coloring of the Mages hair. While Thorin’s grey streaks had grown into his raven locks from a mixture of age and stress, the almost white strands that sprouted by her temples was puzzling. The skin around her temples and forehead seemed lighter than the rest of her skin, almost as if someone had taken some acid or bleach and poured it on to her. The white strands that grew from her head there contrasted deeply to that of the brunette locks that covered the rest of her head. Though no one dared to ask about this odd feature on Ianthe, knowing that hair in some cultures were a sensitive topic, Kili couldn’t help by find himself staring at her hair. He often thought about how soft it looked as her hair blew in the breeze, or sometimes how soft it might feel between his fingers while combing or braiding the strands together. It was stupid of him to dream of such things, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. Especially when she always found a way into his view, or somehow wiggled her way next to him. It was even harder, Kili had found, to not want to reach out for her at night when everyone was settling down in their camp. It wasn’t often that she wasn’t near the two princes, but somehow Ianthe had always found herself closer to Kili by the next morning. Not that either of them minded really.

Despite the happy and entertaining weeks that had passed and the interesting conversations held between the company, the next morning was one that nobody amongst the company seemed to enjoy. From the moment they woke up to the sun's light, even until they packed up their camp and clambered atop their ponies, it poured down cold rain. Ianthe’s thick green cloak did little to stop the cold from sinking deep in her bones. From her spot at the beginning of the line of dwarves, she could hear nothing but the sloshing of mud underneath the ponies hooves and the constant battering of rain upon them and the ground. The company was completely silent. Ianthe found it quite amusing whenever she looked back, only to find that each dwarf had a sour look scrunching up their faces, and even Gandalf and little Bilbo seemed to be absolutely miserable. 

“Here, Mister Gandalf!” Ianthe recognized Dori’s squawky voice call through the pouring rain, yet she kept her eyes ahead as she listened. “Can’t you do something about this deluge?!” Oh the pour old dwarf. They didn’t seem to like the rain much. Ianthe didn’t blame them though. The rain only soaked into their heavy armor and thick tunics and weighed them down, which definitely didn’t help them move any faster than they already could. 

“It is raining, Master Dwarf!” Gandalf called back over the rain, his grey hat falling in front of his eyes for a moment. “And it will continue to do so until the rain is done.” The wizard let out a small frustrated huff as he continued forward, and when Bilbo came to ride next to him he only glanced at the hobbit before continuing. “If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard.” Ianthe let out a small snort at the small comment. The sound didn’t go unnoticed by the rider next to her, Thorin, and he raised an eyebrow in question before blinking rapidly as droplets of rain fell into his eyes. Ianthe’s bottom lip got caught in her teeth to stop herself from laughing at her leaders misfortune, and only when he shot her a warning glare did she quickly turned her focus elsewhere. The smile on her face never faltered though. 

“Are there any?” Bilbo decided to speak up this time, his eyes looking curiously over to the grey wizard. 

“What?”

“Other wizards.” Ianthe quirked an eyebrow at the hobbits question. It wasn’t necessarily an odd or stupid question, it was just surprising to her. Surely the hobbit knew that there were more wizards than just Gandalf. By now the rain seemed to be lightening up a bit, so Ianthe’s thick fingers pulled down her hood, letting her soaked hair slap against her back and shoulders as she shook her head. Gandalf let out a small hum as he looked up for a moment, almost as if he was trying to remember something. 

“There are five of us.” The wizard finally responded. “The greatest of our order is Saruman the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards…” Gandalf trailed off a bit and he furrowed his bushy eyebrows while looking to the muddy ground for a moment. When he finally looked back up he met Ianthe’s amused gaze, and he gave her a small laugh when he noticed the amused smile on her lips. “Do you know,” He started again, looking back to Bilbo for a moment. “I’ve quite forgotten their names.” A chuckle fell past Gandalf’s lips at this, a fit of giggles coming from up front causing him to look up at Ianthe again. 

“And who’s the fifth?” 

“Radagast the Brown!” The company turned their attention to the young mage up front as she answered the Hobbit’s question, confusion blossoming amongst them as to how she knew of the wizard. Her lips were pulled up into a large grin as she spoke of the odd wizard, her memories of meetings with him from years ago flooding back. “Oh, he’s quite a lovely wizard! He knows how to make the most tasty apple tarts!” Ianthe quite enjoyed the nature-loving wizards company, and it was often that she begged her father to let her travel to visit with him again. Maybe she would be able to meet with him again on this journey, and hopefully he would have some of those apple tarts baked and ready for her to eat! 

“Is he a great wizard?” Bilbo turned his attention back to Gandalf, his smile from Ianthe’s sudden happy attitude fading when he took in the grey wizards appearance. “Or is he more like you?” 

“I think he is a very great wizard, in his own way.” Gandalf seemed aghast at the Hobbit’s backhanded comment, his eyebrows raising and his lips smacking together as he shifted in his saddle. “He is a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others,” Gandalf continued, glancing up to Ianthe again when her saw her nodding excitedly. She was very much like Radagast in her own ways, he concluded long ago. “He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East. And a good thing too—“ Ianthe noticed the slightest change in Gandalf’s tone as he spoke, his words becoming a tiny bit tighter and more rough. “— for always evil will look to find a foothold in this world.” Once Gandalf had finished his explanation everyone settled into a comfortable silence. The rain was slowing even more now, and though grey clouds still covered the bright sky, only the leaves were dripping now with whatever rain water was left. 

Ianthe found herself looking back to the group after a few moments, her bright eyes taking in the dwarves and their soaked attire and grumpy moods. A fit of laughter was caught in her throat when she looked over to the two princes. Fili’s hair had grown a shade darker from the rain, and his shoulders were hunched forward as the weight from his drenched, thick coat and numerous weapons weighed him forward. Kili didn’t seem to be in a better position. Their hoods did little to keep the rain from earlier out of their faces, and the brunette prince had a scowl on his lips as he once again tried to move his fringe out of his face, yet failed to do so when a quick breeze knocked it back over his eyes. However the scowl on his lips turned up into a dashing smile when he saw that Ianthe was looking back, his fingers wiggling in her direction. The mage waved back, only instead of looking directly at him, she appeared to be looking off into the distance. Kili grew confused at this, his head turning to try and find what she was looking at, but it wasn’t until he finally locked eyes with her again did he realize his mistake. A pair of glowing yellow eyes stared back at him with mischief swimming in them, and within moments a leaf covered branch hit him hard in the back, the rain-soaked leaves only drenching him further whine nearly knocking him off of his pony.

Kili’s sudden mishap caused a fit of laughter to sound out through the group. The little trick played on the young prince seemed to lighten the spirit of the company, as soon enough each dwarf was cackling at the brunette. Even Thorin had a little smile on his face. Despite wanting to feel angered towards the harmless prank, Kili couldn’t seem to find it in himself to do so, as the smile that pulled up Ianthe’s lips and the happiness that danced in her eyes made his heart flutter. From beside him Fili chuckled at his brother, his arm reaching out to smack the dwarf on the shoulder. “Seems your _ Gehyith _ is becoming another prankster in the group, eh little brother?” 

Kili narrowed his eyes at his older brother when he wiggled his eyebrows in a knowing manner, and the brunette was quick to avert his gaze and turn his head to hide the slightest blush that colored his cheeks. He hadn’t failed to notice how Fili had said ‘your’ _ Gehyith _ and not ‘our’. “Shut it, Fili.” Kili dug his heels into the side of his pony gently to spur the animal forward. Fili let out a bellowing laugh at his brothers sudden flustered state, throwing his head back as the sound echoed throughout the forest. Everyone looked back at the golden-haired prince in confusion as he did so, but instead of looking to him, Ianthe found herself glancing over to Kili instead. She saw the way his cheeks were rosy and how he seemed to be avoiding her gaze at first, but soon enough he looked up shyly to look at her.

Ianthe’s lips spread into a large grin when she was finally able to get Kili’s attention. He was quick to return it, however when she tossed him a wink, something that he had always done to her, he chuckled before shaking his head. “A cheeky little minx, aren’t you, _ Gehyith _ ?” Kili found himself whispering, a sudden yearning desire swimming through his eyes for a brief moment before he shook away any thoughts of her. He needed to focus on the quest, and the quest alone. But it seemed that the longer he and Ianthe spent time together or the more they talked, the harder it was for him to focus on the quest rather than her. The young prince looked to the mage one last time before shaking his head with a sigh. _ This is going to be one long quest. _

~~~

Hours had passed since the rain stopped, and after about two bathroom breaks and a separate break for some snacking, Thorin had decided that the company should stop early for the night. The dwarf had taken up Ianthe’s post as guide about an hour back, having decided that the mage should have some time to mingle with the others in the company. “We camp here for the night!” He called out after leading them towards a clearing, and after seeing there were only the ruins of an old cottage as deeming it safe, he dismounted his pony. “Fili, Kili—“ The young princes looked over to their uncle when called for. “—look after the ponies.” Ianthe couldn’t help but snicker when they let out matching groans at their task. “Oin, Gloin, get a fire going!” 

Ianthe made sure to give her horse, who she had grown quite fond of, an apple before petting her gently on her snout. The horse let out a puff of hot air threw her large nostrils, and the mage whispered a few calming words before she handed the reins off to Kili. “Take care of her, young prince.” The Mage warned him playfully, giving him a stern look as he smirked her way. “Should harm befall my stead, so should it befall to you.” Kili gave a deep, mocking bow before turning around to collect the other ponies, leading them off one-by-one to a small separate area in the forest. 

“Of course, m’lady!” Kili called out to her, a humorous tone lacing his words. “I shall watch over her as if my life depends on it!”

Ianthe chuckled at the princes behavior before she sat upon a large rock. A groan fell past her lips as her hands began kneading the flesh of her lower back, the muscles feeling tense and achy from riding for such a long time. Unfortunately for her, her clothes were still a bit damp from the rain earlier that day, and the breeze that floated through the air only nipped at her skin in a harsh way. It seemed that now her cheeks were a permanent red, and her cloak did little to warm her body. She found herself looking over to Oin and Gloin as they quickly set up a small tent-like shape with small sticks and what dry logs they could find. She was in desperate need of a fire, or at least something warm to dry both her clothes and herself. She looked down to her muddy boots and the dried mud that had caked it’s way on to the ends of her trousers. Her tunic and leather vest were almost as dirty, if not in worse shape then her trousers, making her grimace at how she imagined she must have looked to the others. 

Ianthe frowned when she took notice of how sticky she felt as she moved. It was only then did she realize how long it had been since she had a proper wash. She wasn’t the only one, she had noticed, that hadn’t been able to wash themselves and rid their bodies of the grime and dust from their travels. Many of the dwarves seem a bit musty looking, their braided hair and long beards becoming dirty and almost matted from the rain and quick drying they went through. The dirt that littered areas of their faces and exposed arms didn’t make them appeared any better either. Suddenly Ianthe ran a hand through her hair, and she winced when she felt a sharp tug against her scalp when her fingers got caught between tangled and knots in her hair. The few braids she had added to her hair to keep it away from her face had fallen loose around her cheeks and ears, and the locks behind her head had become almost matted from lack of a good brush. The mage couldn’t believe that she had forgotten about taking proper care of herself on the quest, but it wasn’t necessarily her fault in a sense, seeing as there really wasn’t any place for her to wash in private. 

“Is everything alright?” Ianthe was pulled out of her thoughts of self-disgust when Bilbo questioned the wizard. She looked away from her nasty clothes to see Gandalf storming away from the group angrily, his staff tapping loudly against whatever stone it came into contact with while he gathered his robes in one hand. “Gandalf, where are you going?” Ianthe’s eyes blew wide before she jumped to her feet to follow after the wizard, and it seemed that Bilbo had the same idea as he glanced to her while running after him as well. 

“To seek the only one around here who’s got any sense.” Was the wizards only reply, his tone sharp and frustrated as he continued forward. Ianthe shot Bilbo a confused looked as they followed after him. 

“Who’s that?”

“Myself, Ianthe!” Gandalf whirled around on the mage with a fire in his eyes. Ianthe was quick to grab Bilbo by the shoulders to stop him from colliding with Gandalf when he came to a sudden stop, her eyes widening in slight fright at the dark look in the wizards eyes. Whatever Thorin had told him must have set him off really quickly, as this was the first time in a long time that she had seen the wizard this angered. She couldn’t help but take a small step backwards when Gandalf glared at her, and within seconds the anger in him disappeared when he saw how he had scared her. “I’ve had enough of dwarves for one day.” He continued, only more quiet and even this time. He cast a sorrowful look in the mage and hobbit’s direction before he spun on his heels, his eyes hardening when looked at the Dwarven leader one last time. 

The company that was present watched in shock as the wizard hurried off into the forest to fetch his horse. Ianthe kept her lips in a tight line as she glanced back to Thorin, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. She had a feeling that she knew what their argument was about; she knew how close they were to the hidden pass of Rivendell. It had been nearly a hundred years since she last visited the beautiful Elvish city and its inhabitants, and though she hoped to visit it again one day, she had a feeling that Thorin was adamant on staying as far away as possible from the tall and elegant race. 

“Come on, Bombur, we’re hungry.” Thorin cast the mage a stern look before turning his back on her. 

Ianthe felt the sudden need to confront the stubborn dwarf, yet she resisted the urge as she gave Bilbo’s shoulder a small squeeze. Instead she decided to sit back upon the same rock as before, one that was situated a bit further away from the group, and rummaged through her pack before fishing out a large, heavily decorated and embroidered leather book. The pages of said book were yellowed and littered with dark ink, some words seeming to be completely unreadable. But the mage knew exactly what the scribbles meant, for she had studied this particular book for most of her life. A small hum came from the mage as she crossed her legs together, and after setting the now opened book in her lap she fished around in her hip pouch for a moment before pulling out her beloved Zōḗ Stone. The gem felt cool in her fingers, and the glow that radiated from it cast a mixture of colorful hues on her skin. A few of the dwarves watched the mage as she fondly smiled at the stone in her hands before she set it upon the book. Within moments, her eyes were glowing a bright yellow as she quietly recited the foreign words in her book, and it seemed that the stone on the pages glowed even brighter when her skin crawled with her white markings.

The mage continued in her studying for what seemed like the rest of the evening. The only time she seemed to pause was when someone offered her a drink of water to keep her hydrated, or when Thorin decided he wished to speak with her about the path they were to take the next morning. Ianthe kept her words short and to the point whenever they spoke, for she still wasn’t sure how she felt about his earlier conversation that made Gandalf leave. Sure, he had his reasons for not wanting to seek help from the Elves, but she couldn’t help but become frustrated at how stubborn he was being. After realizing he wasn’t going to get any real conversation out of her, Thorin soon left her alone to go back to her studying with a huff. Ianthe turned her focus back to the heavy book in her lap, her fingers once again caressing the smooth stone in her hands before she began chanting. 

“He’s been gone a long time.” Bilbo looked towards the forest again once supper was ready, his eyes filling with concern while he looked between the mage by his side and the dwarf serving him food. Ianthe had finished her studying long ago and was happily sipping on her hot stew, letting the tasty food drip down her throat and warm her body. Despite the rather successful and enjoyable studying time she had, she couldn’t help but agree with the hobbits words. Gandalf had been gone for quite some time now, and even though she knew he could take care of himself, she couldn’t help but grow worried for him.

“Who?”

“Gandalf.” Ianthe spoke through a mouthful of soup, the hem of her tunic sleeve dapping away the liquid that dribbled down her chin a bit.

“He’s a wizard. He does as he chooses.” Ianthe snorted a bit at Bofur’s words. She knew firsthand just how true his words had been. Bilbo shot the mage a stern look at her reaction, however his attention was quickly drawn away from her when two bowls sloshing with stew were thrust into his hands. “Here, do us a favor. Take this to the lads.” Bofur gave a quick smile to the hobbit when he looked to the bowls in confusion. Bilbo looked back to Ianthe for a moment, his eyes glancing between her and the bowls in his hands before he nodded towards the forest. He clearly didn’t want to go alone.

Ianthe considered joining him for a moment. She was a bit curious as to how the troublesome princes were doing with watching the trusty steeds of the company, but she was also content sitting upon a log near the fire, the warm bowl of stew in her hands aiding in keeping her body feeling toasty. Finally coming up with a decision she cast the hobbit an apologetic look before spooning another mouthful of Bombur’s tasty stew into her mouth. Bilbo let out a small sigh before trekking off into the forest, two bowls of warm stew in each hand for the princes on pony-duty. Ianthe watched as he disappeared beyond the thick foliage, and suddenly she felt compelled to follow after the little hobbit, but not necessarily because she wanted to help him, she hated to admit.

Her mind suddenly wandered to one dwarf in particular when she looked to the dark greenery of the forest. She imagined that Kili was messing around with his brother instead of properly looking out for the ponies and her horse. She smiled softly at the thought of him wrestling around with Fili, or maybe even telling the odd joke as he waited for the night to pass by. The bowl of soup in her hand soon grew cold the longer she thought of the handsome prince. Of how his lips curved perfectly into a wild smirk or a soft grin whenever he talked with her, or the way his brown-eyes could shift to look as innocent as a doe to that of a mischievous little pixie. Ianthe could feel a blush settle on her cheeks when she suddenly remembered the second night she stayed with the company, how she had pressed her hand over his mouth to silence his laughter. His lips felt warm and soft against the skin of her palm, and the stubble on his chin and jaw left tingles on her skin whenever he had shifted under her. Ever since then Ianthe found herself wondering what his lips truly felt like, if they were as warm and as soft on her lips as they had been against her skin. She hated that she thought that, but she truly couldn’t help it.

“Care for anymore, lass?” Ianthe felt her eyes grow wide when she realized she had zoned out again, her cheeks growing a deeper shade of red when she looked to Bombur. She was quick to shake her head no and she pushed her half-empty bowl into his outstretched hand. “You sure? You didn’t really finish much of it, so you must be hungry!”

“I’m fine, really.” The Mage reassured the dwarf, her lips pulling into a genuine smile while she dusted her hands against her trousers. “It was truly delicious, thank you for cooking for us.” Ianthe’s praise sent a frenzy of butterflies through the large dwarfs heart, and he gave a small grateful hum before nodding at her. 

“Aye, it’s no problem. And _ thank you, _lass, for helping me pick the right herb for it!” Ianthe let out a small chortle when he reminded her of her little help earlier. Had it not been for Ianthe and her extreme knowledge of plants and herbs, Bombur would have definitely led every member of the company into one of the most painful and gross nights of their lives. This wasn’t the first time that she aided in finding the correct herbs and spices to season their supper, and it certainly wasn’t the last. Ianthe gave Bombur a small dismissive wave before she stood up from her spot on the log, her arms stretched high above her head as she let out a small satisfied groan when her joints cracked. With one last smile towards Bombur, Ianthe turned in her heel to head back to her makeshift camp. Her pack had been rummaged through again a couple more times, and various books and strange looking sticks— ones which she constantly corrected the dwarfs on and referred to them as wands— were now set upon the rock, as well as her staff which was resting next to one particularly small book. 

Ianthe quickly fell back into her studying mood once she was settled against the rock, and as before no one seemed very intent in disturbing her as she did so. Though yes, the odd dwarf shot her the occasional glance, eyebrows raised in question, they were all quick to not question the Mages odd antics. The peaceful silence that lingered through the camp was broken, however, when a figure dashed through the edge of the forest, a mess of blonde-hair whipping around when he came to a stop. 

“Trolls!” Everyone froze as Fili leaned against his knees to catch his breath. Ianthe felt her eyes growing wide at the princes loud warning, and she couldn’t help but scan the trees again in hopes of seeing the other prince run out behind him, but when he didn’t, her heart raced. _ Where is Kili? _ When no one seemed to move Fili grew frustrated, a small growl fell past his lips as he slammed his palms on to his thighs before motioning back into the forest. “There are trolls, out there! They are stealing our ponies and I’m sure they’ll be back to get us later if we don’t do something, _ now _!” That comment caused everyone to spring into action.

Thorin was quick to assume leadership again while he called out for the company to grab their weapons, his blue eyes glowing in the fire light as he grabbed his sword before dashing towards the forest. Ianthe followed suit, as did everyone else in the group, her fingers grasping the middle of her sturdy staff while she shoved her Zōḗ Stone back into her hip pouch. Even when the others ran off before her she shoved the rest of her things back into her pack, and she flung the heavy bag over her shoulder before running behind the last dwarf. The mage followed everyone into the forest, her eyes set like stone as she pushed her way further through the trees and thick bushes. She could feel her magic rushing through her veins deeper into the forest they went, and her adrenaline followed suit at the thought of having to battle it out with trolls— and not just one, judging by what Fili had said. A light could be seen just up ahead, causing everyone to quicken their pace.

“I said… drop him!” 

Ianthe could feel relief wash over her when Kili’s voice sounded out through the forest. However the closer they got to what she assumed was the trolls camp, she couldn’t help but grow worried once again. _ Is he facing the trolls by himself _? Oh how Ianthe was going to scold him for doing that. Ianthe was knocked away from her thoughts when she heard a small thud and a few pained groans sounded from inside the trolls camp, and it seemed that everyone else did too, as Thorin let out a small battle cry before dashing through the trees and straight into the trolls camp.

The other dwarves followed after their leader, swords and axes held high before swinging down onto the flesh of the nasty trolls. When Ianthe finally made it into the camp she froze, eyes wide with both fascination and fear when she looked upon the trolls. Her grip tightened around the body of her staff for a moment, her bright eyes studying the giant creatures. It had been years since she last saw a troll, and she felt a bit puzzled as to why her company was encountering them in this area. It wasn’t until a loud cry sounded from beside her that the mage sprang into action. Her eyes narrowed quickly as she dashed forward, her trousers becoming more dirty when she ducked and slid under a trolls swiping arm. A short chant fell past her lips when she pushed herself to her feet, and the air around her suddenly grew dry and cold. She thrust the stone at the tip of her staff deep into the side of one troll, her eyes glowing bright in sync with her chants when a sudden force threw the troll forward, a small gust of air pushing outwards where her staff made contact with the troll.

Ianthe kept her focus on the small battle when another troll reached for her, but she was barely quick enough to dodge his large fingers. However she let out a grunt when she collided with another body, and her staff was already raised to strike until she saw who she had run into. “Kili!” The excitement and relief that laced her words didn’t go unnoticed by the prince when he looked to her, a lopsided grin pulling up his lips when he quickly surveyed her to check for any injuries. However, his grin faltered when he saw her eyes suddenly narrownat him. Ianthe was quick to press a finger into his shoulder, a sudden irritation running over her features. “What possessed you to think it was smart to— duck!” 

When Ianthe’s eyes widened in fear he was quick to do as he was told, but he couldn’t help but turn to see exactly what it was he was ducking from. Another spew of chants fell past Ianthe’s lips as she this time held her hand out towards the on coming troll fingers. Kili felt his breath hitch at the cold, dry air that surrounded the two of them, and he watched as trails of white snaked up Ianthe’s neck and onto her cheeks when suddenly roots as thick as the trolls fingers shot up from the ground and grabbed a hold of the trolls wrist, stopping his fingers just inches away from Ianthe’s nose. Kili was quick to grab the mage by the waist as he moved away from the troll, holding her close to him when the troll broke free from the roots. Soon enough the two of them were side-by-side as more dwarves joined them, yet Kili’s hand never once strayed from Ianthe’s waist as the other brandished his sword.

“No, Bilbo!” 

Everyone froze when the hobbits name was suddenly shouted in desperation. Slowly Ianthe looked up and towards two ugly trolls, the yellow in her eyes slowly fading and being replaced by horror when she saw how cruelly her hobbit friend was being handled. Each of the two trolls were holding on to one of Bilbo’s hands and feet, stretching his limbs a bit whenever one of the dwarves made a sudden move. “Lay down yer arms,” One of the nasty trolls spoke gruffly. “Or we’ll rip ‘is off!”

Ianthe felt Kili’s hand lift from her waist as he went to move forward again, but she was quick to thrust her staff out to catch him in the middle, her hand coming to rest softly against his shoulder as she shook her head. “It’s not a smart idea, Kili.” She warned him quietly, her cheeks almost resting against his own. He seemed torn between rescuing the hobbit and listening to her, his eyes holding her gentle, yet stern gaze before he looked towards the dangling hobbit again. Thorin let out a small growl from beside the two as he looked up at the hobbit, and having heard the Mages words he looked to her briefly. He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow that his nephew and his guide were in, but he was quick to to shake it off for the time-being as he held her strong gaze.

Both the leader and the mage had a quiet conversation for a quick moment, Ianthe nodding her head at the understanding look in his eyes before shifting the staff in her hand. After another second she let the wooden weapon fall to the ground, her eyes looking up to Kili afterwards. The prince’s eyes blew wide for a moment when Thorin followed suit and stabbed his sword into the ground, and soon enough everyone else did the same. Only after feeling her grip his shoulder did Kili look away and thrust his weapon angrily towards the ground, an annoyed look contorting his face as he sent a glare towards his uncle and the mage that was still holding on to him. 

“Alright, bag some of ‘em up!” Ianthe felt her eyes blow wide and her muscles tense at the gruff words spoken by one of the trolls holding Bilbo. However none of them were quick enough to run from the trolls, nor did they want to risk the hobbit getting torn to pieces, so they all stayed out, allowing the nasty trolls to bag them up. “Put the rest on the spit!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the support!! I’m glad you’re all liking this series!! Don’t forget to leave a kudos if you haven’t and a comment if you have any thoughts about this!!


	4. Saving Sunlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit shorter than what I had originally planned, but seeing it’s more of a filler chapter I hope you won’t mind. 
> 
> Thank you guys for reading this next piece; please let me know what you think!! Any feedback is much appreciated!!

Grunts of frustration and curses flew past Ianthe’s lips as she struggled in her sack, hair flying wildly around her face while she wiggled her body around. Kili had been thrown into the pile not longer after her, and he too struggled to free himself of the sack he was wearing, but having his hands tied behind his back hindered him from doing so. “I’ll skin those bloody trolls if I get out of this.” She suddenly heard him mutter. Ianthe froze at his words though, failing to notice Bilbo struggling to stand when her eyes fell to the brunette prince. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest and her bright eyes blew wide when she looked between the three ugly trolls in front of her and the fire that was lit under the dwarves on the spit

“ _ If _ ?” Ianthe drove her knee deep into Kili’s lower back to gain his attention, her eyes dancing with fear in the firelight when he looked to her in shock at her rough actions. “What do you mean—“

“Wait!” Ianthe felt her blood freeze when Bilbo’s voice sounded clear around the camp, her and everyone else looking towards the hobbit when he hopped forward. “You’re making a terrible mistake!” He seemed quite surprised at his sudden courage, his eyes wide as he looked to the menacing trolls in front of him, chest heaving for much needed air. Shouts of protests suddenly sounded around again, and it wasn’t until Oin accidentally kicked Ianthe in the back did she finally break free from her shocked trance. A sudden surge of worry flowed through the mage, a powerful sting hitting the back of her eyes when her magic, for some reason, gave a small burst. She let out a small groan as she squeezed her eyes shut, completely missing the concerned look Kili cast her way. 

“You can’t reason with them!” Dori called out, straining his neck as he was rotated on the spit. “They’re half-wits!”

“Half-wits?” Bofur seemed absolutely appalled at the name for some reason, his eyebrows raising to his hairline before he too was rotated over the fire again. “What does that make us?!”

Bilbo ignored the protests of the dwarves as he faced forward. “I-i meant with the uh.. the—“ When Ianthe heard Bilbo stuttered over his words she quirked an eyebrow.  _ What trick did he have up his sleeve? _ “— with the seasoning!” He suddenly sputtered out, his eyes widening just a bit when everyone’s attention was on him, even the trolls.

“Wha’ ‘bout the seasonin’?” One troll grumbled menacingly, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit in confusion.

Ianthe ignored Kili’s shoulder bumping into her body as he continued to struggle against his bonds, her eyes snapping open again and her gaze focusing entirely on the Hobbit as he spoke. “Well, have you smelt them?” Ianthe’s eyebrows shot up at the statement, her nose immediately pressing as far as possible into her shoulder before she gave a short sniff. She didn’t smell too bad, she pondered. A little earthy and a bit like rotten wood, yes, but it wasn’t her fault that she hadn’t had a proper wash in what felt like forever. “You’re gonna need something a lot stronger than sage before you plate this lot up.” Bilbo continued, and she couldn't help but flinch when protesting yells sounded out again and rang in her ears. 

One of the other trolls gave a small scoff, and once again Ianthe felt her body freeze when he took a small step towards Bilbo. “Wha’ do you know ’bout cookin’ dwarf?” The troll question, lips turned up in a snarl. Her whole body was tense within her sack, her nails digging deep into her palms while she tried to calm herself. Ianthe had faced many evils in the world throughout her travels as a mage, but never once had she been captured and thrust into a sack by three hungry trolls. 

“No,” Another troll interrupted. “Let the burglar-hobbit talk.” 

Bilbo fidgeted in his sack again as he stood in front of the trolls, and for a moment Ianthe felt the need to push herself even harder to stand, hoping that if she could she would join the hobbit. “The secret to cooking dwarf is… um…” Ianthe’s eyes blew wide for a quick second, her heart racing wildly in her chest at Bilbo’s words. He couldn’t possibly be giving the trolls tips on how to eat them, could he? Truly he didn’t hate the company that much. “T-the secret is to.. to skin them first!” Bilbo suddenly declared, almost as if he had remembered a great secret. 

More protests sounded throughout the camp and Ianthe squeezed her eyes shut. She tried her hardest to block out the yells and the cursed that were being shot the poor Hobbit’s way. Of course she understood why the dwarfs were so angry at him. If anything it appeared that Bilbo was helping the trolls, giving them tips and little tricks on how to eat the dwarves and herself faster. Another pang of fear coursed through the Mages body at the thought, and for the first time in what felt like forever Ianthe found herself wishing she was out of the forest and that the sun would—

“That’s it!” Ianthe’s eyes snapped open in sudden realization. That’s why Bilbo was talking to the trolls, he was trying to distract them. “Sunlight!” Her words were whispered, yet they didn’t go unnoticed by a certain dwarf prince. Kili watched as the mage suddenly forced herself to roll over and on to her side, her body falling out of his vision for a quick second before a soft ‘thud’ sounded to his left. Moments later she appeared again, this time rolling in the dirt. Confusion ate away at him and his struggling slowed so he could watch her, and for after a moment he found himself laughing. The blonde in Ianthe’s hair had flipped over and covered her eyes and nose, a small groan of frustration falling past her lips when she failed to blow it off of her the first two tries. After a while she gave up and instead focused on rolling over to her back.

“You can do this, just focus.” Ianthe shook her head for a third time, this time around her hair finally falling away from her eyes. Once she was settled against the dirt she began rocking back and forth, the back of her hands pressed against her butt for leverage as she pushed her fingers into the ground. After a few more times of rocking back and forth her eyes suddenly flared a vibrant yellow, and a rush of magic seemed to dry the air around her before a large root burst from the ground and pushed against her back. “Ha, yes!” A small cheer of success fell past her lips when she felt her feet land on the ground, and for a second she glanced back to the pile of dwarves, her eyes catching the shocked brown eyes of Kili before she turned to Bilbo.

“Oh, no wait!” Upon seeing a troll lift Bombur over his opened mouth Ianthe hobbled forward as quickly as possible. The troll in question froze upon hearing her accented voice loud through the camp, and it appeared that everyone else did too. Despite the sudden urge to hide from prying eyes Ianthe fell into place next to Bilbo, her eyes wide with worry as she looked between the dangling Bombur and the other captive dwarves. “Y-you can’t eat him!” Ianthe cursed herself for not coming up with a better opening sentence. As the three trolls gave her disapproving looks, her gut became unsettled and twisted with worry, small white veins of lightning forming on her skin out of panic when her magic surged again. “H-he’s um— well he’s—“

“He’s infected!” Despite letting out a sigh of relief from having his help, Ianthe gave Bilbo a crazed look at his excuse. The troll seemed to recoil a bit at his words, yet he still held Bombur tight in his hands while she and Bilbo shared a look.

“You wha’?”

“Yeah!” Ianthe’s lips seemed to move on their own while she nodded enthusiastically, going right along with Bilbo’s plan. What the plan exactly was she wasn’t sure, but what she did know was that they both needed to distract the trolls at least for a while longer. Ianthe’s eyes danced over to an overhanging rock and she felt a spark of hope run through her veins when she noticed the tiniest hint of light sprouting over the rock and surrounding trees. “He’s uh.. he’s got worms—“

“In his tubes!” Ianthe nodded in agreement with Bilbo once again when he spoke, her hair flying every-which-way and her eyes looking into the faces of the trolls for their reactions. The one holding Bombur let out a disgusted yelp, his grip loosening on the large dwarf and throwing him back into the pile she had just hobbled away from. Ianthe couldn’t help wince when she heard him land he’s out on top of the pile of dwarves, a series of groans being heard shortly after as they were crushed by his sudden weight. “I-in fact, they all have. They’re infested with parasites. Terrible business;” Ianthe nudged Bilbo gently on the shoulder to get his attention, her head nodding in the direction of the rock when she saw the sun peaking over even more. He gave her a stiff nod when he saw, his voice now tightened when he spoke. “I really wouldn’t risk it if I were you.”

Ianthe felt proud at her and Bilbo’s distraction for the trolls, but the pride in her heart soon twisted to annoyance when shouts of protest and more curses suddenly sounded out. All sorts of ugly names were tossed in her and Bilbo’s direction and it seemed that the both of them deflated at this, their eyes rolling in frustration at the stubborn dwarves. “We don’t have parasites!” Ianthe shot Kili a stern look when she heard his voice above the others. However, his eyes were blazing with rage as his skin flushed, his lips curled in a terrible snarl. When they locked gazes he thrashed in his sack even more. The Mages faze faltered at this, her gut clenching with a sudden pain. “You have parasites!” Ianthe knew that Kili wasn’t necessarily stating that towards her, but the look of disbelief and hurt that swam in his eyes made her turn away, her body burning hot with sorrow at his reaction. 

Ianthe kept her eyes on the ground as the dwarves continued to protest. Her hair fell directly in her face as she did so, and despite her wrists being bond tightly together she twisted them so she could lace her fingers together. The rope tore at her skin easily and Ianthe was sure that by the time they were set free— if they were set free— then her wrists would be definitely sore and her skin would be torn, red, and possibly even bleeding. The sudden guilt she felt in her gut was beginning to eat at her and yet, she wasn’t quite sure why she felt so guilty. Ianthe had been nothing but helpful to the dwarves on this quest, guiding them safely through the forest and helping them pick the right herbs for medicine and other plants for food. She told them about her life and what did she get in return? Being told she had parasites? Then why did she suddenly feel guilty?

“I’ve got parasites as big as my arm!”

Ianthe’s head whipped around when Oin’s voice echoed in her ears.  _ Did he just.. agree with us?  _ Ianthe shot Bilbo a look, catching the glittering of happiness in his eyes. Her body twisted to look back at the pile of dwarves, and once again she locked eyes with Kili’s. Something seemed to spark in him when he saw the guilt still flashing through her eyes, his own softening for a quick moment before he nodded. “Mine are the biggest parasites!” He suddenly called, watching Ianthe’s face twist in shock before he looked to the three ugly trolls. “I’ve got  _ huge _ parasites!” Kili’s mood at taken a turn for the better it seemed, as now he was agreeing quite loudly with Bilbo and Ianthe’s comment.

Ianthe wasn’t exactly sure what had gotten the stubborn dwarves to want to agree to her and Bilbo’s statements, but she made a mental note to thank whoever spurred them on once they were free. She turned away from the prince before looking down to Bilbo as the other dwarves began to almost argue who had the biggest parasites. A soft laugh fell past her lips when she gave Bilbo a knowing look, his lips spreading in a small smile before he nudged her with his shoulder. Their shared triumph was short lived, however, when one of the trolls let out a grunt, his hand letting go of the large spit to proad Ianthe in the shoulder, hard. Her bottom hit the dirt after she stumbled back, and for a second she was sure she was stars in front of her when the wind was knocked from her lungs when her spine bounced off of a particularly jagged rock. 

“What’d ya hav’ us do then, let ‘em all go?” The one who had shoved Ianthe let out a gravely huff. 

Bilbo shot Ianthe a quick look of concern as she gasped for air, a sharp pain radiating in her spine and tale-bone. She shook him off though, and through her pain she gave him a reassuring smile. Bilbo turned back to the trolls when one of them nudged him with his grimy fingers, his shoulder bobbing up and down as he shrugged. “Ah, Well…” Bilbo hoped that you would be able to get up soon, as he could see the already nonexistent patience in the trolls grow weak. The three didn’t seem to like the sound of his answer, as one of them grunted before looking to Bilbo in annoyance.

“Ya don’ think I know wha’ yer up too?!” One troll suddenly growled in anger. Ianthe felt her body freeze as she watched the troll turn to the other two, yet she felt helpless as she laid on her back, a sharp pain in her back still keeping her from moving much. “These little ferrets is takin’ us for fools!”

Bilbo suddenly straightened up, his shoulders squaring away as he looked to the trolls incredulously. “Ferrets?!” He was appalled at being compared to that of a rodent.

“Fools!” 

And fools the trolls truly were. Ianthe felt relief wash over her and she relaxed against the ground as her eyes fell upon the overhanging rock again, and this time she not only saw the sun’s rays shining above the rock but also a quick flash of grey run above it. She wanted to cheer when Gandalf suddenly stood upon the rock, the sun casting a shadow over him as he raised his staff high above the ground. “The dawn will take you all!” All eyes turned to the wizard when he finally announced his presence, the trolls each letting out grunts of confusion. 

“Who’s that?” 

“No idea.” 

“Can we eat ‘im too?” 

Ianthe felt disgusted as she listened to the trolls talk, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Gandalf had finally came to their rescue, she was sure she would’ve had a branch or too shoved into her ears to block out the noise. No time was wasted as Gandalf slammed the bottom of his staff on to the rock he was standing on, a loud crack echoing throughout the camp as he stepped over to the side. Ianthe’s eyes went wide while she watched one part of the rock fall away from the other half, the sun’s bright and glorious rays pouring into the darkened troll camp in waves. This time Ianthe let her cheer’s be heard as the sun smacked the trolls in the face, their shrieks and yells of pain bouncing off of the trees while they tried to shield their ugly bodies.

But their efforts were fruitless. Ianthe’s eyes were wide with wonder as the sun baked the trolls skin, trails of smoke dancing in the air as their muscles and bones hardened from the inside out. Soon enough the sun had fully taken its effect on the creatures, their faces now permanently twisted in agony as their bodies turned to hardened stone. Once she was sure that the trolls were stopped Ianthe felt her chest heave with a sigh, her lips pulling up into a grin as the back of her head fell softly against the dirt. Cheers replaced the cries of pain, the dwarves hearts feeling light now that they knew they were safe. Bilbo felt his lips twitch when he looked at Gandalf, however his eyes fell to Ianthe when she let out a soft laugh from her spot upon the ground. 

“My,” He started when he saw that she was looking to him already, her eyes squeezing shut for a second before she wriggled in her sack again. “What a night, Miss Ianthe.”

“What a night indeed, Mister Baggins. What a night indeed!”


	5. The Hunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support!! I hope that you’re all still enjoying this, and if you do please don’t hesitate to give a kudos if you haven’t already and leave a comment!! You guys are awesome!!

One-by-one the dwarves were set free from their sacks, and soon enough those that had been tied to the spit were lowered to the ground and untied. The sun was now shining bright amongst the company of dwarves, each one letting out grumbles of annoyance as they reached for their coats and tunics again. Ianthe let out a small pained hum as she rubbed her sore wrists carefully, the raw skin having blistered from the tight rope and now bleeding at the slightest touch. Her staff was held tightly in between her side and elbow as she looked up at the stone statues in front of her, and she soon found herself being tempted to smack her staff against the nose of one of the ugly trolls. What a horrible way to spend a night, all tied up by three monstrous trolls.

“Where did you go, if I may ask?” Ianthe’s ears picked up Thorin’s baritone voice as he questioned the grey wizard. Her bright eyes quickly spotted the pair in between the bustle of the dwarves getting dressed again, and it wasn’t long before she slowly made her way over. She had a question to ask Gandalf. 

“To look ahead.” Gandalf informed the dwarf.

“What brought you back?” Thorin glanced over to the mage as she stood close to his side. Her hair looked even messier now than it did before they tried to battle it out with the trolls, the blonde sections in her hair now dark enough to blend in with the rest of her hair from the dirt that she had rolled around in through the night. Ianthe paid no mind to his wandering eyes as she looked to Gandalf, her eyes giving off a look that warned the wizard of her questioning at a later time. 

“Looking back.” Gandalf’s eyebrows raised in amusement at the dirt that had splashed itself over the bridge of Ianthe’s nose, and the grip he had around his own wooden staff tightened when he looked around at the dwarves. “Nasty business. Still, they’re all in one piece.” Ianthe hummed in agreement as she too looked around the company. Many of the dwarves were now fully clothed and were strapping their few weapons on to their bodies. It wasn’t long before the mage found herself looking towards a certain brunette prince, her eyes once again scanning his body for any visible injures. She felt a small pang in her chest when she saw him dusting the dirt from off of his tunic, his earlier words echoing through her mind for a split second. It was true that his words were only spoken out of frustration from being captured and tied in a sack, but the pure rage and hurt look that swam through his brown eyes wounded her. The feeling in her stomach was enough to make her want to double-over, but she kept the irking feeling to herself as she turned away.

“No thanks to your burglar.” 

Ianthe shot the leader next to her a stern glare as she looked away from Kili. “If not for Bilbo and his idea to distract the trolls, we all would’ve been made into jelly or eaten whole.” Her tone was extremely sharp, her accent seeming thicker than usual due to the swirl of pain and irritation that ran through her body at once. Ianthe was growing tired of Thorin’s constant belittling of the hobbit and his stubbornness to accept him as part of the group. If he could accept her into the company, than certainly he could do the same for Bilbo. “I don’t remember you being the one to figure out that sunlight was the trolls weakness.” Thorin’s eyes widened the slightest bit at her biting words. Ianthe’s usual happy and serene character had been replaced by a cross and almost wrathful mage. Her eyes were sharp and blazing against her paling skin, the bright irises now dark and swimming with annoyance.

“Ianthe, my dear. there is no need to be frustrated over such a thing.” Gandalf set a comforting hand against the raging Mages shoulder, his fingers digging lightly into her cloak as he pulled her away from Thorin. The dwarf seemed frozen by Ianthe’s quick and sudden outburst, and a sudden air of awkwardness fell upon the three of them as the wizard worked to ease the irritation out of her. If not for the wizard and the look he cast towards him, Thorin was sure that he would’ve snapped back at her once he was knocked out of his surprised state. However, instead of doing so he looked away from Ianthe, fearing the slightest bit that she might snap on him again, and to the three stone trolls before his thick eyebrows knitted together. 

“Since when do Mountain Troll’s venture this far south?” 

Gandalf looked away from the still fuming mage next to him and to the three trolls once again. “Not for an age. Not since a darker power ruled these lands.” Ianthe peered up to the wizard in confusion at his last statement, her eyebrows quirking a bit before he waved her off. Her anger was slowly waning, her she still couldn’t stop the sickly feeling of annoyance that bubbled in her gut. “They could not have traveled in daylight.” He concluded.

“Maybe there is a cave nearby.” Ianthe suggested quietly, her cheeks flushing the slightest bit red as guilt for her earlier outburst swam through her veins. The feelings— mostly nausea and fatigue— that gnawed away at her stomach and nerves was concerning to her, and she wasn’t quite sure why she felt sick or irritated, even after she had calmed down from Thorin’s words. Both Gandalf and Thorin nodded in agreement to her comment. She shot the leader a quick apologetic look when they locked eyes for a quick second, and her lips pulled down into a tight frown. Thorin, however, gave her a small nod before turning around and calling for the others to start looking for the troll’s cave. He didn’t feel the need to address her and her outburst right now. But he knew that he would have to bring it up the next time they made camp for the night, especially with the cold-shoulder she had been giving him since Gandalf had first stormed off. 

Ianthe felt a sigh fall past her lips as she too began searching for the troll’s cave. However she fell back the longer they searched and the sick feeling in her grew, and it wasn’t long before Ianthe could see the rest of the company up ahead, digging through the thick bushes for an entrance to the cave or looking in between large rocks. She suddenly felt as if a great cloud floated over her and her body weighed that of an Oliphaunt. Despite the large, green trees and the ancient forestry that surrounded her, Ianthe felt drained and tired. Her boots dragged tiredly against the dirt floor as she directed herself to follow after her company, and it wasn’t long after her sudden bout of exhaustion that someone had found— more like smelt— the troll’s cave. Curiosity flowed around the back of her mind as she neared them, and her eyes soon fell upon a large opening to a cave, one that ran deep within a rock and smelled heavily of rotten eggs and spoiled milk. This was most definitely a troll hoard.

The sudden buzzing in Ianthe’s ears blocked out the excited, yet the disgusted murmurs that sounded out amongst the dwarves sounded like flies to her, their fingers fondling their newly found treasure before throwing it over their shoulders. Usually Ianthe would’ve laughed at the dwarves as they rummaged through the trolls stolen goods, but she couldn’t seem to find the energy to do so. She used her staff for support as she shuffled along a small path towards a small incline, and it wasn’t until she made it a few feet past the troll hoard that she found herself falling upon a rock covered in soft moss. The staff in her hands came clattering to the forest floor while the pack she had on her shoulders slipped off and landed against the rock as she buried her face into her palms. Her body was aching and she felt as if her veins were pulsing with an unknown sickness. Her mind was growing fuzzier with each passing second, her fingers now trembling as they cradled her burning face. 

Ianthe had no clue as to what brought this sudden feeling of exhaustion and woe upon her. She was concerned, definitely, but she was more so confused. The entire journey she had been in high spirits, and the forest and greenery that quickly surrounded her and her company only added on to her excitement and magic that dwelled in her little body. So why now? Why was it that all of a sudden she felt as if she could sleep for the next hundred years. What unknown thing was weighing heavy on her mind and forcing her body to swim with a strong anxiety. Her father had never warned her of something like this happening to the Mages, so it had to be something that she contracted.

“Ianthe— _ Gehyith _, are you alright?”

A heavy hand was placed upon the Mages shoulder while someone took the opened space next to her on the rock. The voice was quiet and comforting in a sense, and when Ianthe peaked up at the dwarf through the cracks in her thick fingers she was met with the concerned eyes of the brunette prince. Kili’s hand felt warm against her shoulder, the heat from his skin sinking past her cloak and tunic and spreading through her arm and shoulder blades. His lips were turned down in a small frown, and the worry that laced his features were clearly seen before Ianthe turned her face away from him again. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond to him. She knew that she wasn’t feeling right, that was for sure. But how would she explain the sudden anxiety that coursed through her veins and the exhaustion that ate at her body?

“I’m not exactly sure, Kili.” Was all that Ianthe was able to say, as the air in her lungs felt heavy and thick for a quick second. Her fingers fell to grasp at her knees as she leaned forward a bit so she could let out a trembling breath, and Kili was quick to catch the pained look that crossed over her features. “I just— I don’t feel.. I don’t feel right.” The pain that swam through Ianthe’s eyes made Kili want to wrap her in his arms and hold her close. She looked different from the way she looked only moments ago; of course her hair was a matted mess, but the skin around her dulled eyes were dark and sunken, and while her freckled cheeks were normally flushed with a joyous color, her skin now reflected that of a ghost, sick and almost green looking despite how feverish she felt. She looked sick, he noticed, extremely sick and whatever was causing it made his heart thump hard with worry. 

“Do you need—“

“Somethings coming!” Thorin’s voice called loudly through the quiet of the forest. Kili jumped to his feet in an instant, and Ianthe had no time to comprehend their leaders words before Kili grabbed a hold of her hand and pulled her along with him. The rest of the company quickly emerged from the troll hoard, weapons brandished as they all formed a circle. Ianthe held her breath in fear of what to come. Her fingers held tightly on to her staff as she angled the wooden weapon in front of her, but her strength still had not returned and her arms shook under the weight of her staff. Yet the warmth that spread through her other hand as Kili’s fingers laced together with hers worked to ease some of the anxiety that filled her chest. He held her close, his fingers pulling her close to tuck her into his side as she trembled sickly. He knew that neither of them could work out her sickness just then, and the worry that spread through his gut made him pull her close, hoping to protect her as much as he could.

“Stay together!” Ianthe suddenly looked over through foggy eyes to see Gandalf herding the rest of the dwarves into a circle. “Hurry now! Arm yourselves!” Kili kept the weakened mage as close as ever to his side when the others drew close together, forming a circle. He would’ve preferred to have his bow notched and aimed towards the rustling bushes in front of them but he instead grabbed a hold of his short sword, his other hand tugging gently against Ianthe’s thick fingers. The rustling grew close to the company and everyone readied themselves for what was to come. Even little Bilbo had found a sword, Ianthe spotted out of the corner of her eyes, and was wielding it in front of his body. She noticed the look of terror that flashed through his eyes and she couldn’t help but feel the same as she faced forward again. With her magic seeming to dwindle and the constant ache in her body Ianthe knew she wouldn’t be of much help if whatever was making its way towards them was another trio of trolls, or worse, a pack of Orcs. So she could only hope that the dwarves were ready to face anything.

“Thieves!” Dozens of large rabbits burst through the thick bushes in front of the company, and soon enough an old sled was pulled along with them. “Fire! Murder!” The voice that called out seemed familiar to Ianthe, and on instinct she lowered her staff a little bit. She could feel Kili’s confused gaze on her when he tugged at her fingers, his arm tucking her so close to him that she was nearly under his coat. The Mages eyes were still fogged over a bit, but the dull coloring was slowly disappearing and slowly returning to their usually bright blue, yet she still couldn’t make out who their sudden guest was. He sounded familiar, that much she knew. Yet the short, brown clothes and brown pointy hat didn’t seem to ring a bell in Ianthe’s mind.

“Radagast.” Gandalf let out a small laugh as he took a step forward while lowering his sword, a small sigh soon falling past his lips as he made his way over to the other wizard. “Radagast the Brown.” Ianthe felt a wave of excitement fall over her at the name of her nature loving friend, and it seemed that whatever sickness she was battling moments before was now passing, slowly but surely. Her eyes were shining again and were clear, and as soon as the mage looked to the short wizard she couldn’t help but grin widely at him. A sudden pressure against her hand caused her to look over to Kili. He had a look of confusion on his face as he looked between the mage and the odd man that was now in front of him, but she merely shook her head while knocking their shoulders together before she turned back to Gandalf and her old friend. “What on earth are you doing here?” 

“I was looking for you, Gandalf.” Radagast's words were rushed and filled with a worry that Ianthe had never heard in the old wizard before. She suddenly found herself taking a step towards the two, but Kili held her back, his fingers gripping her hand tightly. She had seemed to have forgotten that he was holding on to her hand, and for a second she felt herself blush when she looked down to their intertwined fingers. How long had he been holding her so close to his body? She couldn’t seem to remember. Yet the warmth that spread through her veins and the sudden pounding of her heart at their closeness seemed to help with her healing process. “Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong.” Oh how Ianthe hated the sound of that. The mage looked over as Radagast opened his mouth again to explain further, the dried bird poo shifting on his face as he did so, but his mind suddenly drew a blank. “Just give me a minute. Oh, I had a thought and now I lost it!” The old wizard let out a small whine as he continued to fumble for his words, his lips smacking together. Ianthe felt herself chuckle at the wizards antics. “It was right here on the tip of my tongue— oh!” Ianthe leaned forward to get a better view of the wizards when Radagast looked to Gandalf in surprise, his lips parting as he widened his mouth. “It’s not a thought at all!” To prove his point the odd wizard stuck his tongue out, and Gandalf reached forward with an amused smile to pull a little stick-like big from off of his tongue. “It’s a silly old stick insect!”

Ianthe laughed when she heard some of the dwarves gag a bit in disgust and almost all of them wrinkled their noses up while watching Gandalf drop the bug gently into Radagast’s palm. The mage could feel her body grow stronger now. Whatever it was that was causing her to feel incredibly ill had passed, yet the feeling still lingered in the back of her mind. The dwarves behind her seemed to relax when they saw that they were no longer in any danger, but they still kept a wary eye on the odd wizard while falling back a bit. As the two wizards began to separate themselves from the rest of the company Ianthe went to follow them, her mind whirring with question after question for the brown wizard who she hadn’t seen in years. But she nearly ran into a body when someone stepped in front of her. 

“You seem to be feeling better now.” Ianthe found herself face to face with Kili, his brown eyes scanning over her features to look for any signs of sickness again. She may have looked fine to him now, but he still worries for her. If he had known any better he would’ve concluded that she was dying from the way she looked earlier. “Are you though? Are you feeling alright?” He had dropped her hand to comfortably move in front of her and the strong urge to reach forward again and hold on to his fingers suddenly ran through her. Ianthe took notice of the deep concern that furrowed his eyebrows together. The mage was grateful for his concern, and she smiled when they locked eyes for a moment. But she merely nodded her head before reaching forward to give his forearm a small squeeze.

“I am, yes.” Ianthe spoke while glancing over the princes shoulder and to the wizards behind him again. Her eyebrows quirked when she saw Radagast suck in a deep breath as he held Gandalf’s pipe between his lips, whatever smoke he held in his lungs blowing out of his nose and ears and floating away through the air. She once again went to move towards the two, but instead of blocking her path Kili grabbed her by the forearm, his fingers gently digging into her skin as he pulled her back. Ianthe wiped around to look at the dwarf in confusion, her eyes dancing from his hand on her skin to the look in his eyes. “Truly, Kili, I’m feeling much better.” Her smile did little to ease the worry in his heart, yet the feeling of her fingers dancing across the back of his hand distracted him, and he looked down to see her hand hold on to his for a moment longer while his heart jumped. _Please don’t let go._ “I will let you know if I ever feel sick again, _ o prínkipas mou _.” 

“What?” The foreign language that flooded eloquently past Ianthe’s lips caught the Dwarven prince off guard. He knew that this was the same language that she spoke whenever performing her enchantments, yet he didn’t recognize any of the words she had spoken before. Ianthe couldn’t help but laugh at the bewildered look on Kili’s face. However, instead of responding right away, she opted to pressing her palm gently against his cheek before brushing past him. Kili was too stunned at the Mages touch to think to reach for her again and by the time he had shook himself out of his daze, she was nearly to the two wizards.

Ianthe felt her smile widen as she neared Gandalf and Radagast, and she could feel herself growing more excited to speak with the brown wizard again. It had been too long since she last spoke with him. She was hoping to be able to visit his little cottage again, that was, if Thorin would allow her to lead them towards the wizards humble abode. Ianthe was within a few feet away from the wizards now, her smile wider than ever and her eyes shining while their hushed conversation slowly reached her ears. But suddenly she froze, her muscles tensing and her fingers gripping her staff when a chilling howl seemed to shake the trees. Everyone seemed to freeze at the sound as well, each dwarf grabbing a hold of their weapons again as the chilling howl quieted down.

“Was that a wolf?” Bilbo questioned, eyes wide as he looked around the forest. “Are there wolves out here?”

“Wolves?” It was Bofur who replied to the hobbit, his own eyes shaking with fear as he gulped thickly. “No, _ that _ was no wolf.”

A terrifying growl suddenly sounded behind the group of dwarves and everyone tensed again. A large wolf-like beast was quick to emerge from the trees and dash towards the group of stunned dwarves, teeth bared and claws ready to tear flesh and muscle from bone. But before the beast could get near anyone the air surrounding them grew dry and chilling, and within seconds a faint yellow glow seemed to emanate from the ground before a sharp pillar of stone shot up from the dirt. The pillar slammed into the beats side and it let out a yelp on impact, the stone sending it to the ground away from most of the dwarves before it was finally silenced by Thorin’s blade. Those closest to the now dead animal looked to Ianthe in astonishment as she held her staff out in the beasts direction, yet no one had time to question her as her yellow eyes widened and she pointed to the area behind Thorin.

“Look out!” 

Kili was quick to draw his bow and step out in front of Bilbo, the hobbit stepping aside when the prince drew his arrow back and let it fly towards the beast. Though his aim of true, the arrow didn’t kill the beast. It merely knocked the animal off of its feet and it slid down a hill before struggling to its feet. Ianthe braced herself as she went to subdue the new beast, but Dwalin was quicker, his hammer slamming down into the beasts skull with a sickening crunch. “Warg scouts!” Thorin knew immediately what the presence of the beasts meant, his eyes going wide as he looked around to his company. “Which means an Orc pack is not far behind!”

“O-Orc pack?!” 

Ianthe felt Gandalf’s robes brush past her as he stalked forward angrily, and she watched as he bounded towards Thorin. “Who did you tell about your quest beyond your kin?” The wizard barked at the leader once he was close enough, the raven-haired dwarf looking up to Gandalf in confusion as he towered over him. 

“No one.”

“Who did you tell?!” By now the wizard was fuming. Ianthe found herself chasing after Gandalf, hoping that maybe she could smooth his wrath as he had done for her earlier. But once again the mage was grabbed, yet instead of her just being held to the side of a certain prince, her back was pulled against a firm chest. 

“Wait a moment, Ianthe.” The Mage struggled against Kili’s hold as he wrapped his arms around her, keeping her from moving forward and towards the seething wizard. His arms, though gentle as he pressed her body flush against his, were strong and unmoving against her middle when her fingers grabbed at him to let her go. Ianthe turned her head to look between the prince behind her and Gandalf for a quick second before she finally decided to relax into his hold, and once Kili was sure she wouldn’t go running off again, he dropped his hands from her waist. However he kept one hand situated on her hip as he stepped to the side a bit to watch his uncle. 

“No one, I swear!” Thorin looked around to the astonished group of dwarves, his new sword glinting in the sunlight as he twisted around to face the wizard again. Ianthe quirked an eyebrow at the weapon. She had never seen it before until now. “What in Durin’s name is going on?!” 

“You’re being hunted.” The statement alone was enough to send the dwarves into a frenzy. Ianthe didn’t blame them though. Her chest felt heavy with fear again as she looked back to Kili, their eyes locking for a quick second as they shared a knowing look. 

“We have to get out of here!” Dwalin sounded everyone’s thoughts. 

Many hummed in agreement to the burly dwarfs words, but that was short-lived when Ori suddenly appeared above the group, eyes wide and lips parted as he panted for breath. “We can’t!” He spoke loudly for everyone to hear. “We have no ponies, they’ve bolted!”

Panic set in now. The dwarves tried their hardest to come up with plans to get out of the sudden trouble they found themselves in, even Ianthe gave her thoughts and ideas on how to escape the Orc pack. But without any form of transportation their plans seemed to be anything but successful. Ianthe kept close to Kili’s side as the company drew close together. Not that she had much of a choice. The prince had latched himself to her side it seemed, his hands always resting against some part of her body or his fingers drawing her close to him in an attempt to keep her safe. Ianthe tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling in her chest whenever he touched her. But he had been so close these past couple of moments, his eyes always looking to her in concern before he would look away that she couldn’t help but think of him and the emotions he caused to ravage her body.

“I’ll draw them off.” Radagast’s voice suddenly spoke through the murmurings of the dwarves, his little legs already carrying him towards his rabbit-driven sled. Ianthe felt her eyes widen at the wizards statement. She felt compelled to reach into her pack and grab out whatever she could find to stop him from doing so. And it seemed that Gandalf felt the same concern for Radagast as she had, as he stepped forward to address him.

“These are Gundabad Wargs,” Gandalf pointed out, eyebrows raised as he gave the other wizard a look while he mounted his sled. “They will outrun you.”

Radagast seemed to freeze for a split second at Gandalf’s statement. But for some reason the smirk on his lips was reassuring as he looked up to Gandalf from under his brown, poo soiled hat. “These are Rhosgobel Rabbits,” The brown wizard retorted, and for the first time he looked towards the group of dwarves. His eyes were suddenly drawn towards Ianthe for a moment, recognition whizzing through his mind before his eyes blew wide. Radagast’s shock diminished shortly after when he saw the nod she set his way, and once again a smirk pulled up his lips when he sent her a knowing wink. He turned back to Gandalf after tearing his gaze from the Mage, his fingers gripping the reins of his sled tightly as a look of determination hardened his features. “I’d like to see them try.” 

~~~

“Come on!” 

Lungs burned for air the longer the company trekked across the rocky plain. Everyone stuck as close together as possible as Gandalf herded the company further away from the Orc pack as Radagast distracted them. Ianthe could hear the brown wizard call for the Orc’s, his laughter taunting the ugly creatures to follow him and his team of Rhosgobel Rabbits as he was pulled quickly through the forest and out into the plains. In any other situation Ianthe would’ve laughed along with him, as his taunts and shrieked words were carried through the air at a pitch that she found humorous. But she didn’t. Ianthe made sure her pack was secure around her body as she followed after the company, her staff gently prodding at the few dwarves who lagged behind. However she only prodded them harder when she saw Radagast’s sled take a quick turn, his rabbits heading straight for them. Her eyes grew wide at the action and she was quick to alert Thorin up front, who nodded briefly before calling to Gandalf.

Gandalf’s calls for the company to run faster and hide only spurred them on before they all ducked behind a rock. Labored breaths were held in for a moment when Radagast had led the Orc Pack a bit too close to the company. Ianthe’s eyes were wide as she pressed her back flush against a rock, her gaze traveling from the team of creatures in fear before she looked to the dwarf now at her side. Kili’s eyebrows were knitted together as he too looked towards Radagast’s disappearing sled, but when he caught the look Ianthe was sending him, he gave her hand a small, reassuring squeeze. “Stay together!” Gandalf suddenly called again, waving his arm in the direction in which they were to run next.

“Go!” Thorin’s voice broke everyone into a run again, his stare never breaking from the horizon as he kept an eye out for the Orc pack. Everyone followed after him and the wizard. Feet pounded against rock and grass as the company pushed themselves further into the plain and hopefully to a safe haven. Ianthe found herself recognizing shapes and formations of certain rocks and small hills, yet she didn’t find it in herself to question where the wizard was leading them. She knew if she voiced her thoughts than Thorin would surely oppose and tell them to turn back, to find another safe place. So she kept her thoughts to herself, Ianthe slowed her pace upon coming up to a small hill, her staff gently tapping the bottom of the dwarves who struggled to keep up and around the rock at the top. They came to a halt, however, when Thorin’s eyes grew wide upon coming to the other side, and he suddenly drew back. The pack was chasing the wizard on the other side. 

“Ori, no!” Thorin was quick to grab a hold of the young dwarfs coat as he ran past, pulling him back behind the rock. Once at the top of the hill Ianthe was pulled towards the rock as well, and soon she realized that she had been sandwiched between the two princes. Kili had another tight grip on her hand, his fingers squeezing hers as sweat lined his forehead. Fíli was in no better shape, his cheeks blazing from exertion and his lips parted as he gasped for breath. In any normal situation Ianthe felt she would have blushed at Kili’s touched, but now wasn’t the time to fantasize about such things. 

“All of you, come.” Gandalf once again spurred the company to run once he and Thorin assessed it was safe enough to come out from behind the rock. “Quickly!”

“Where are you leading us?!” Ianthe shot the wizard a knowing look as she ran past him and Thorin, yet he ignored her as he continued to usher the group forward. Kili kept as close as he could to the Mages side as they continued to run, his eyes every so often glancing over to her to make sure that she was still with him. Her face was scrunched up as she pushed herself, and soon a red tint dusted her freckles cheeks as it grew harder for her to breath. The longer they ran the harder it was for the company to draw air into their lungs, but as they drew closer to another rock, relief spread through the dwarves momentarily. The moment was short lived, however, when a deep growling and the sound of claws clicking against stone could be heard on top of the rock they were hiding behind. 

Ianthe sucked in a sharp breath as she brought her staff close to her chest, the wood pressing against her forehead as she closed her eyes. Thorin shot his nephew a knowing look, his eyes dancing between the Warg Rider on the rock and his bow before Kili nodded in understanding. The leader then looked away as Kili began to notch an arrow on to his bow. Thorin saw how Ianthe’s lips moved silently as she leaned against her staff, chest heaving painfully as she tried to control her breathing. Whatever it was that she was chanting didn’t seem to be that of her usual spells, as her white markings didn’t appear while the stone in her staff glowed. Once again the leader was drawn away, this time from the mage and to his nephew when he stepped out from the rock and raised his bow, a look of determination on his features as he aimed towards the Warg. Same as before his aim was true and it hit the Warg, the beast soon tumbling down the rock and in front of the company.

But it was not dead. The Warg let out a wild shriek of pain and the rider on top roared when he rolled off of the beast. Ianthe snapped her eyes open and she felt her heart stop when she saw the Orc reached for a horn. She felt frozen while the company of dwarves worked quickly to silence the two beasts, swords and axes hacking into rotten skin and furred flesh before it went silent again. Ianthe’s eyes met Kili when the company froze in anticipation, just waiting and listening for anything. Kili desperately wanted to reach for her now and hold her close. He knew she could probably defend herself, but the worrisome feeling in his gut continued to grow and he wanted to make sure that she was okay. It wasn’t until loud and ugly snarls and roads sounded out did the dwarves come alive again, their legs carrying them out from behind the rock and after Gandalf. 

“This way! Quickly!” Ianthe didn’t seem to wait for anyone was she took off. The dwarves weren’t far behind as they all hurried forward, fear suddenly driving them to push their little legs faster. The thundering sound of paws against the ground and the ugly snarling of the Orc’s made Ianthe’s heart pound with fear, her hair whipping around her face and eyes as she tried to get a better look at where they were. But she came to a sliding stop before she had a chance to run into Dwalin, her eyes blowing wide and a small squeak falling past her lips when she realized that they were surrounded. 

“There’s more coming!” Ianthe snapped her head towards Kili as he loaded his bow again, and a gasp fell past her lips when she noticed how separated from the company he was. The grip on her staff tightened when the company drew close together. “We’re surrounded!” Fili this time called out. The mage found a sudden courage in the midst of her fear and she took a step forward, her feet carrying her towards the princes. She had to protect them. Thorin, with his sword now drawn, looked around at the Wargs surrounding him and his company, when he noticed the hurried steps the mage took to get to his nephews. He went to speak, to call her back and to pull her away from the Wargs, but a frightened voice broke him away.

“Where’s Gandalf?!” Dori questioned, his voice shaking with fear and his eyes wide upon realizing the wizard was nowhere to be seen. 

“He’s abandoned us!” Ianthe almost tripped upon hearing Dwalin’s angered words, and she would’ve spun around to scold him for the accusation if it wasn’t for the fact that she had final reached Kili. The prince turned to her in surprise when her hand rested against his back for a quick second, his eyes blowing wide and his lips parting to speak. But Ianthe cut him off, her fingers giving a small tug against his elbow as she redirected his bow towards an incoming Warg.

“Stay focused.” She spoke quickly and quietly, her eyes faintly glowing yellow when she turned her back to him, staff raised. “Shoot them down, and I’ll protect you.” 

“Hold your ground!” Thorin watched as his nephew shot Warg after Warg down and as Ianthe used her magic to push the stray ones back. It was helpful, yes, but a deep fear bubbled it’s way into his chest when he noticed the Wargs and Orcs drawing closer from the other sides of the company. It wasn’t long before he felt as if this was the end, that the weeks of planning and the endless hours of riding to reach his homeland were for nothing. But to his surprise, as well as the rest of the company, Gandalf reappeared, his head and shoulders just poking out from behind a well-hidden rock.

“This way, you fools!”

“Come on, move!” The company seemed to collectively spin around and dash towards the opening that Gandalf had found, and one after the other they slid through the entrance and rolled to a stop at the bottom of the cave. “Quickly, all of you. Go!” Thorin continued to call for his company and showed them the way down the rocky slide as the Wargs grew close. Yet as his eyes scanned the dwarves, he stopped upon realizing which duo was still missing from the group.

“Kili, Ianthe!” The mage turned for a second to see that the company had disappeared, her brows knitting together in confusion. However when she saw where Thorin was standing, his arms waving frantically for her and his nephew to follow, she couldn’t help but smile in relief. It looks like Gandalf had found the hidden pass after all. “Run!”

The air around Ianthe grew dry and cold when she pointed her staff in the direction of a Warg rider, a large pillar of stone shooting out of the ground and hitting the creatures in the side. With that last defense she grabbed a hold of Kili by the coat and pushed him into a run, her eyes still glowing a fierce yellow as she used her staff to herd him forward. Ianthe felt the ground beneath her feet tremble with the thundering paws of the Wargs that chased after them, and for the first time since their attempts to escape she didn’t dare to look back. Thorin was watching and waiting with anticipation as his nephew and the mage hurried to the hidden entrance, and it seemed to him that they would outrun the Wargs and make it to safety. But he was foolish to think that. 

“Quickly! Behind you!” 

Ianthe let out a strangled cry when a piercing pain shot through her shoulder and back, the weight of the Wargs paw bearing down on her when she crashed to the ground with a sickening thud. Kili came to a stop upon hearing the frightening cry, and his eyes blew wide when he saw the Warg on top of her. He went to draw his bow again, but he was shocked to see that Ianthe’s yellow eyes were boring into his. “Go!” Despite the crushing weight on her back, shoulder and ribs the mage had managed to swing her arm forward, but not without letting out a painful cry when the beasts claws tore deep into her shoulder. The princes heart raced wildly with fear for her. Thorin’s calls for him were growing distant as he watched Ianthe struggle, a deep red staining her cloak and tunic from her wounds. Seeing that Kili was froze, Ianthe grunted out as she reached for her fallen staff before her fingers brushed the cracked wood, and with a last effort to keep the prince safe, she pointed the staff in his direction. 

“Ianthe, n—“ Kili watched as Ianthe yelled a spell, one so powerful and so full of energy that her skin was fully crawling with the white markings. Power surged through the mage and out through her staff, and before he knew what was happening he felt a strong force push him backwards and towards his uncle. Thorin was quick to pull his nephew close, his arms pushing the young dwarf down the slippery rocks and into the cave. He ignored his nephew’s calls for the mage as he turned back, but instead of seeing fear filled eyes that the mage sported moments before, Thorin saw her yellow eyes glow bright with anger and determination. The pain in her back was like a roaring fire, and Ianthe heard a horrid growl before the Warg sunk his claws deeper into her back before dragging them to her tail bone. Ianthe tried her best to wriggle free, but the beasts claws held her firm against the ground, and even as she tried to angle her staff towards the beasts head, she was rendered useless. Her blood was looking around her body, and it was as if the scent made the Warg happier, as it let out a laugh-like sound before sinking its claws deeper into her. The dwarf and the mage shared a look with each other, and even though she let out another pained cry as the Warg clawed at her shoulder and back, he knew she wanted him to go. It pained him to do so, to leave her, but there wasn’t anything that he could do. 

Thorin gave his mage one last look before complying and turning to the entrance, his arms tucked in as he slid against the rock. Kili was by his side in an instant. “Where is Ianthe?!” He frantically questioned, brown eyes filled with panic as he looked away from his uncle and to the mouth of the cave. “Where is she?!” The dwarves watched as the prince was held back by his uncle, their hearts filling with pity for the young dwarf as he cried out for her. “We have to go back! She is wounded!” He wanted go throw up as he stood in the safety of the cave. Kili could still see the claws dig deep into her back, tear her flesh apart as splashing blood upon her clothes and it’s claws. He could’ve shot the beast, he knew he could’ve. But she just had to push him back. His heart was thundering with anger at her actions, yet the worry that picked at his nerves was growing strong. Surely she would be fine, right?

“Ianthe is strong, Kili.” It was Gandalf who spoke, his eyes swimming with a deep worry for the mage as he looked down to the prince. Kili’s struggling slowed ever so slightly when his brother came to his side, his arms pulling him close in a comforting embrace. “She can defend herself. We can do nothing but wait and see the outcome of her decision to stay behind.” 

  
  



	6. Returning to Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like this chapter!! It is a bit shorter than usual, but either way, I hope it’s good enough for you guys!
> 
> There is mention of quite a bit of blood and some serious injuries, but nothing too too bad. I appreciate all of your support on this series, I love you guys!!

The entire journey through the cave and it's winding pathways seemed like torture for Kili. Just the thought of having to leave Ianthe behind brought a sharp pain to his chest and made him freeze, yet his brother pushed him on with a gentle hand and a few words of comfort. The prince felt his heart grow heavy the further he followed his company away from the cave, and he couldn't seem to get the image of her— bloodied and practically torn apart— out of his mind. His worries didn't cease even when the Elven horns sounded out before they went down the pathway. Kili had not encountered Elves before so he only had the stories of his uncle to go by. Selfish, cruel, and uncaring for those outside of their kin. That's what he had been told they were, so that's why he had thought them to be. Thinking of Ianthe being captured by a band of Elves made the young prince shudder before a bout of anger washed over him. Yet even though he tried shaking the fear and the image of her out of his head, he couldn't.

"She will be fine, brother." Fili often found himself saying as they trekked through the narrow pathways. Though the more he said it, the more he realized that even he didn't seem to believe it the further away from the cave they walked. Curiosity had gotten the better of him earlier. He asked his uncle about Ianthe and what he had saw, and when Thorin had explained to Fili just how bad Ianthe's wounds looked, even when he wasn't that close to her, the golden-haired prince flinched and dread filled his gut. By now his words were merely a form of comfort to his brother, yet Fili could tell by the look in Kili's eyes and the tension in his shoulders that he was beginning to not believe it. Hell, neither was he.

The company kept eerily quiet as they were led through the pathways of the cave. It wasn't soon after they had dislodged a stuck Bombur did they finally see light pouring on to the path. Many of the dwarves eyes blew wide as they came to a stop at the beginning of the path, taking in the elegant stone and the weaving greenery that laid down before them. "The Valley Of Imladris." Gandalf spoke fondly, his lips spreading in a small smile for the first time since leaving Ianthe behind. His heart grew heavy upon thinking of the mage, as he knew of her love for the Elven cities, even the ones she had her to visit, like this one. "In the common tongue, it is known by another name."

"Rivendell." Bilbo gasped quietly, eyes wide and full of wonder at seeing the Elven city for the first time.

"Here lies the Last Homely House, East of the Sea."

Many of the dwarves seemed to sober up as Gandalf spoke, some eyes now narrowing at the city below them. The longer Kili looked around at the weaving trees and budding flowers that embellished the city the more angered and sad he became. He knew Ianthe would have loved to see such a marvelous sight, and he could just imagine the smile that the city would produce on her face. She would have definitely already been making her way down the stone steps and towards a waterfall that was set further down. Kili would have loved to see how she would have reacted to this Elven City. He stood frozen as his lips pulled down into a deep frown, and his fingers balled into fists as he looked away from Rivendell. The city looked lovely enough, sparkling and pulsing with some unseen magic. But no peace would be found in Kili's heart, not while he knew Ianthe could still be alive, out in the wild on her own with a possibly deadly wound. 

"This was your plan all along." Thorin's voice was bitter as he looked away from Rivendell and towards Gandalf, his eyes set a blaze with anger. "To seek refuge with our enemy." Gandalf quirked an eyebrow at the dwarf for a moment. He was half inclined to chuckle at the dwarfs anger, especially when he could imagine a familiar voice arguing back with Thorin in his head. The poor mage would've thrown a fit at the dwarfs attitude towards the inviting Elves of Rivendell.

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf pointed out sternly, yet his eyes danced with amusement. The wizard tightened his grip on his staff for a moment, his gaze falling on to the shining city for a second before he continued. "The only ill-will to be found in this Valley is that which you bring upon yourself."

"You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us."

"Of course they will. But we have questions that need to be answered." Gandalf's comment only caused the deep feeling of anger in Thorin to grow, yet the dwarf kept it well hidden. Gandalf was right, he understood, and even though he despised the Elves with everything he had he could not turn away a place that offered a comfortable place to sleep and warm food to eat, that is, if they were granted amenities such as that. "If we are to be successful this needs to be handled with tact and respect. And no small deal of charm." Thorin let out a soft grumble at the wizards words. "Which is why you will leave the talking to me."

Thorin let out a soft sigh and reluctantly nodded. Something pricked at his heart though, as he and the rest of the dwarves followed Gandalf down the winding stairs and closer to the Elven city. It wasn't until he caught sight of thick veins wrap gently around a patch of blooming lilies did he realize where that feeling was coming from. Ianthe most definitely would have loved to be walking down the steep steps and through the greenery that weaved its way through and around Rivendell. Thorin couldn't help but glance back to his nephew at the thought of the missing mage. It was clear to him that the two had grown close. Closer than he had originally intended yet he didn't seem to have the heart to tear the two apart. When he turned away from Kili, Thorin tightened the grip he had on his sword as images of Ianthe being pinned by a Warg flashed through his mind. He could've gone back for her. He could've gone to fight off the Warg and pull her into the cave. But she told him not too, and he realized too late just how stupid it was to listen to the foolish girl.

The company was soon led through a high-arch of stone, their eyes wide as they looked up at the Elven statues. All eyes turned to the front, however, when Gandalf stepped forward to greet an Elf that walked gracefully down a flight of stairs, a foreign name falling easily past his lips. "Ah Lindir." Gandalf gave a small bow before continuing to speak, yet as his words elegantly fell past his lips the dwarves scowled. Elvish. The company grew irritated the longer the Elf and their wizard spoke in a language they couldn't understand. However when they finally realized that they had switched back to a language that they recognized, only a few relaxed. "I must speak with Lord Elrond."

"My Lord Elrond is not here." The Elf Lindir spoke, hands folded gently in front of his body as he addressed the wizard.

"Not here? Where is he?"

A sharp call suddenly sounded throughout the city and the dwarves jumped at the noise. The same horns as before blew sharp tunes to announce the Elves coming. "Close ranks!" Upon realizing a band of Elves were riding into the city Thorin bristled, his fingers gripping his sword as he called for the company to circle up. The dwarves hurried and brandished their weapons as the most vulnerable were pulled into the middle, Bilbo looking around with wide eyes when he was suddenly pulled back. Kili felt his body grow rigid and he was quick to notch an arrow on to his bow. When the Elves rode around them in circles, their spears pointed at the company out of habit in case they were enemies, the prince narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Gandalf."

The wizard in question stepped forward when called, his eyes landing immediately on the Elf who addressed him. As the Elf dismounted his horse Gandalf drew near to him, Thorin watched the two interact as suspicion ran clear through him. "Lord Elrond." Gandalf replied, a small smile on his lips at seeing an old friend. Once again the dwarves tensed when the two conversed in the elvish tongue. Kili felt his anger build the longer they did so. What was the point of them talking? It made no sense to him. He much rather preferred to be out of Rivendell and back into the wild to search for Ianthe.

"Strange, for Orcs to come so close to our borders," The Elvish Lord continued in English as he gave the wizard a knowing look before reaching for an Orcish blade. He merely glanced at the weapon before handing it to another Elf as he continued. "Something, or someone, has drawn them near."

"Ah.. that, may have been us."

When Lord Elrond's eyes fell upon the company Thorin took a step forward, shoulders squared and chest puffed out. He kept quiet for the time being, his azure eyes set in a slight glare as he looked at the elf head on. "Welcome Thorin, Son of Thrain." Elrond greeted, giving a slight bow of his head.

"I do not believe we have met."

"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew King Thror when he ruled under the mountain."

"Indeed?" Thorin wanted nothing more than to laugh in the Elf's face. But he instead opted to quirking an eyebrow and letting out a scoff. The look Gandalf was shooting him reminded him of the way Ianthe had scolded him for his comment towards Bilbo. "He made no mention of you." The stubbornness of dwarves shown through strongly with Thorin as he tried to size up the Elven Lord. Elrond, however, seemed hardly dazed at all by Thorin's bitter words and instead looked towards the company. His words were not taken lightly as he spoke directly to them, yet upon realizing he was speaking in the Elvish tongue once more, many within the group grew frustrated and annoyed once again.

"What is he saying?!" Gloin questioned most angrily, axe raised slightly as he looked towards the Lord. "Does he offer us insult!"

"No, Master Gloin," Gandalf chuckled. "He is offering you food."

The dwarves went silent at the mention of food, and they were quick to discuss among themselves as they all huddled together. Lord Elrond watched the group of dwarves converse with each other in amusement, his lips pulled up until he saw the grave look that danced over Gandalf's face. The wizard seemed troubled, and a question was burning on his tongue. Yet he held back from questioning the Elf Lord for the time being, deeming that the question would only upset the dwarves more than they already were. It wasn't until one of the dwarves cleared their throats did Gandalf and Elrond look away from one another to turn their attention back to the company. Gloin spoke up again, his voice not as rude as it was before.

"Well, in that case, lead on."

~~~

"_Gáma me!_"

The curses that flew past Ianthe's pale lips seemed to dance across the ground before echoing off of the rocks, trees and other plant life in the forest. The blood that seeped through her cloak was sticking to her hand as she tried wrapping it tighter around her body. Stars danced around her vision as she did so, the pain in her body only growing when she tried to stop the bleeding. The mage couldn't reach far back enough. The three long gashes that ran from her right shoulder blade down to her tail bone continuously flowed with the warm, crimson liquid. Ianthe knew that she had to get some help quickly. Her magic wouldn't be enough to mend the wounds on her back, especially if she couldn't lay a hand properly over the area. Her bag had been ripped away by the Warg before it had pinned her, so any healing ointments and plants that she might have had with her were no longer available. The more she moved, trying to get comfortable against the rock she had fallen upon, the more her wounds moved against each other and more blood flowed down her back and stained her clothes. The torn pieces of flesh that had begun to set and scab over pulled apart and only caused more pain to set ablaze in the Mages back. The spot she was on was surely stained red. And she was positive if anyone were to stumble upon her that she would've looked like she bathed in blood.

After Ianthe had seen Thorin dive into the mouth of the cave she finally was able to thrust her staff into the eye of the Warg. The beast stumbled back in surprise and yelped in pain when she did so, yet as it's claws were still buried in her back Ianthe was pulled up with it. Her screams echoed throughout the open plain when the Warg let go of her back, but not before taking some of her flesh with his claws. She stumbled forward, barely managing to catch herself, before she dug the end of her staff into the ground for support. Ianthe's eyes glowed fiercely yellow as she gathered as much strength that was left in her, and she ignored the burning sensation that spiked up her back as her new wounds rubbed together at the action. Instead of pointing the staff in the Warg's direction immediately she instead reached for the gem that was sat snugly on top of it, her bloodied fingers gripping the jagged gem before yanking it away from the staff. A bright light momentarily blinded the Warg that attacked her and when it's vision was cleared, it went to attack again. But Ianthe was faster. Holding to the gem in one hand, the staff in her hand seemed to have shrunk and was now the size of a wand, and it was pointed straight at the beast. Bright white markings crawled up Ianthe's skin as her lips voiced out her enchantment, and immediately a glowing light seemed to burst from the point of the wand and towards the Warg. The Orc on top seemed to realize what magic was heading towards him, but he had no time to move as the glowing energy hit him head on. Soon there was nothing left of the two creatures but a cloud of dust that danced away with the wind.

Shortly after that the mage fell to her knees, exhaustion and pain flooding through her body as her palms slammed into the ground painfully. She could hear the other Wargs and their Orc Riders nearing her, the smell of fresh blood probably enticing them to move quicker. Ianthe hated to feel this weak, to feel this pain that seemed to eat away at her back and shoulder. Her arms shook violently as she held herself off of the ground, and through clouded eyes she could see the red that seemed to flow in waves from her back and on to the grassy plain. _This is it_ she couldn't help but think to herself. There was little energy left in her to fight, and her hand— still slick with blood— gripped the wand as tight as it could at the thought. There had to be a way out of this. She wasn't sure what she was going to do, but when she looked to engravings that had been whittled into her small wand, an idea struck her. A sudden bout of hope coursed through Ianthe's veins when she suddenly realized that their was a way. There was a way for her to make it out. Given, it was a dangerous way, but it was one way that her father had told her of long ago.

Ianthe's hair fell over to shield her paling skin as she looked up into the face in an oncoming Warg. It was a long shot, using her magic to create such an energy burst that she could escape the jaws of death heading her way. She had never tried it before. Her father had warned her of the consequences that might come from using her magic in such a way, but she was out of options. It was either this, or die.

The mage sucked in a deep breath before bracing herself for another wave of pain, her bloodied hands pushing herself up as she cried out. The gashes on her back rubbed painfully together and she gasped when the torn fabric of her cloak brushed against the raw and bleeding skin, but she kept her eyes forward even when they stung with tears. Shakily she raised both hands to grasp the wand, her palms resting against the wooden weapon after she shoved the gem of her staff in the same pouch that held her lifeforce. Four fingers remained facing the sky as she curled the rest around the wand for support, and looking to the Warg one last time she closed her clouded, yellow eyes. The air around her suddenly grew cold when she sucked in a deep breath, and almost as if some storm was brewing, a small wind began to build around the mage. Ianthe focused all of her energy into this one spell. The Wargs continued on towards the critically wounded girl, nothing but bloodlust and hunger driving them forward. But she kept her eyes squeezed shut and her fingers tight around the wand as she began muttering the words for the enchantment, and as her words grew in speed and intensity the markings on her skin grew bigger and brighter. Whatever magic she had left made itself known as the wind picked up and the air began to freeze the dead grass of the plain while frost danced across the rocks. However all at once, when she was sure she had finished the enchantment and gathered enough magic in her body, Ianthe's eyes blew open.

The Orc's froze upon their Wargs when her yellow eyes shifted, leaving nothing but pools of shimmering gold in their wake. Her skin flowed magnificently with tendrils of white as she thrust her wand straight into the air, her words sounding clear through the plain before she stabbed her wand deep into the earth. An unknown blast of energy blew the Orcs and Wargs back as her magic surged through her and deep into the ground, and only when they looked away from the blinding light that surrounded her and back again did they realize that she had disappeared. Only an ugly red stain on the earth, from her blood, was left from where she was kneeling. The Orcs were too stunned by this incredible display of magic to notice the sharp horn that sounded through the plain, and soon enough each one had been taken out by a band of Elves.

"You're so close." Ianthe found herself whispering, her eyes just barely seeing the shimmering lights of her destination. The thick trees that now surrounded her beaten body obscured her view a bit, and it didn't help that black suddenly began to rim her eyes. She tried pushing herself forward, but the mage found herself falling off of her rock and on to the ground with a thud as her weakened limbs could no longer support her weight. "Just a little longer..." Her wand had been shoved deep into her boot and though she wished to reach down for it, she couldn't. The shifting of her muscles and the rubbing of her wounds was too painful. The mage clawed at the earth as she crawled forward. Her safe haven was so close, yet she could feel the magic in her body dwindle and the fire in her soul die out. The longer her wounds remained unattended to and the more she bled, Ianthe realized that she would die soon. She had her Zōḗ Stone, yes, but it could only keep her alive for so long with wounds as grave as hers. Her mind grew foggy and the trees in front of her grew dark when a sleep suddenly washed over her. The pain in her back had slowly grown numb, and though she tried to fight the sleepiness that called her name Ianthe couldn't help but fall limp against the ground, her hands reaching towards the Elven City as her blood soaked into the soil.

~~~

The dwarves looked to their leafy salads and other green foods with distaste. The music that flowed gently through the air was too soft for them and only added on to the frustration that seemed to grow in their little bodies. Scowls appeared as they sifted through the endless amounts of green, only to growl when no meat was found. "I don't like green food." Ori protested after his brother, Dori, tried to persuade him into trying a bite into some lettuce. Many of the others seemed to agree with his statement.

"Where's the meat?" Dwalin grabbed a handful of leaves from his bowl and looked through it. Only when he found that there still wasn't any meat of any kind to be seem, he slammed the leafy greens back into his bowl.

"Have they got any chips?"

Up near the balcony sat Lord Elrond, Gandalf and Thorin as they talked amongst themselves. Elrond held on to Thorin's new blade, his fingers curling around the hilt for a minute before he hummed in approval. "This is Orcist, the Goblin Cleaver. A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin." The Lord spoke fondly. He returned the blade to its scabbard quickly before handing it back off to Thorin, who gave a singular nod upon having his weapon back in his grasp. "May it serve you well." Elrond then turned to the weapon that Gandalf had also acquired in the trolls cave, his fingers handling the blade just as he had done with Orcist. "And this is Glamdring," He spoke, looking at the shining blade with a small amount of awe as he weighed it in his hands. "The Foe-Hammer, sword of the King Of Gondolin. These swords were made for the goblin wars of the First Age..." Elrond trailed off as he looked to the sword, but he quickly shook himself out of an oncoming daze before handing the mighty weapon back to Gandalf. "How came you by these?"

"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road," Gandalf replied after setting his sword to the side. "Shortly before we were ambushed by Orcs."

"And what were you doing on the Great East Road?" The tiniest of smirks was resting up Elrond's lips as he surveyed the two at his table, and he noticed almost immediately when Thorin tensed up at his question. The dwarf was quick to stand to his feet, and as his eyes grew cold he gave a quick nod before excusing himself. Gandalf watched as Thorin stalked away from the table and suddenly he sighed, as the tense atmosphere that grew over the table was something he recognized immediately. Gandalf knew that Thorin still didn't like the idea of being in Rivendell, and speaking of their quest was something he was trying to avoid. But something else made Thorin upset at the mention of their run-in with the Orc pack. The images of the mage were still fresh in the dwarfs mind, and though he still held on to a small amount of hope, thinking that she might still be alive, the wizard could tell that the hope for her was dwindling.

"My Lord Elrond.." The Elf looked towards Gandalf when he called for him, and almost immediately he frowned when he saw the worry that flashed through his eyes. It was almost identical to the look they shared when first meeting hours before, and when the Lord nodded for him to continue, Gandalf cleared his throat. "We were a group of sixteen before— a young mage was our guide through the forest." Elrond kept quiet as Gandalf spoke. He could hear the worry that laced each word that the wizard said, and he ran a hand over his chin in thought as he listened. "When the Orc's attacked she had been left behind, a Warg had held her back before she could get to safety."

"We did not see this mage," Elrond knew what the wizard was implying. Shortly after Thorin had dived into the cave the Elves came and disposed of the Wargs and Orcs that had chased after them, and what Elrond said was true. After finishing off the last of the creatures Elrond and his band of Elves surveyed the dead pile of filth, so he and many others would have remembered seeing a young mage among the group of the dead, but he didn't. "I am sorry Gandalf, but we only slew what was left of the Warg and their Orc Riders." Gandalf had suspected as much. When Elrond had returned to Rivendell he was hopeful that one of the Elves might be caring the injured Ianthe in, but when he saw them empty handed, save for the Orcish weapons they took, his heart grew heavy. "Should we find a mage wandering our borders you shall be—"

"My Lord Elrond!"

The Elf Lord looked towards an Elven-maid as she interrupted him, her eyes wide with shock and her hands trembling in front of her. Upon hearing of such a disturbance the company grew quiet and looked to the elleth, eyebrows raised and hands stilling over the greens in their bowls. Only after Elrond bid her to continue did the elleth do so, only her words came out rushed and in a language that the Dwarves did not understand. They grumbled out their annoyance and turned back to their food as the slow music around them began to play again, yet when Gandalf stood abruptly to his feet, eyes wide and swimming with fear at the young elf's words, the dwarves froze.

"Take me to her, at once."

Kili watched as the wizard was quickly escorted out of the dining area by the elleth. The suddenly terrified Elf wasn't the only thing that caught his attention; another four elves quickly made their way through the gates of Rivendell and past the dining area in which they sat. The bundle in one of the elves arms seemed almost lifeless, and it was easy to spot the large red stain that was splattered over the thick cloak that was wrapped around the figure. _Must be one of their own_ Kili thought as he noticed the urgent and worrisome look on the Elves faces. He turned away from them as they passed, but he couldn't help the pang in his heart as he looked down to his hands. Another vision of Ianthe passed through his mind, and no amount of comforting from his brother or uncle could lessen the worry and guilt that washed over him. Kili's lips were pulled down as he pressed his hands against the table top, and only after he stood to his feet did he address his brother and those seated around him. "I going to take a walk," Was all he mumbled out, hair falling to cover and hide the agony that danced across his features.

The prince was stopped, however, when Lord Elrond stood to his feet and turned to the rest of the company. He had a grim look on his face, yet his eyes seemed the slightest bit hopeful as he addressed them. "You all shall be escorted to your rooms for the evening," He spoke, nodding towards the two Elleth's that stood behind him. "Should all go well, after you have settled down we shall allow you to visit your friend in the medical wing."

Kili's eyes blew wide and he whirled around to look at Elrond after he finished. The elf lord seemed to be staring right through him, his keen eyes having noticed the pure worry and now hope that took over his countenance. "What do you mean, our friend?" It was Bofur that spoke this time, his pipe now held between his lips as he leaned forward on the table. Murmurs began to sound out among the dwarves as they looked between themselves and each other, yet when Elrond waved his hand gently over them they quieted down a bit. They were curious to hear what the Elf has to say next.

"It appears that, by the grace of Ivann herself, your Mage friend has returned to you."


	7. Awakened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long awaited update!! Things have gotten crazy for me, and when I went through my old drafts I found this!! Hopefully when things quiet down for me I’ll be able to update more <3

The wait to see their beloved mage seemed like it lasted for days. Many within the company decided to ‘keep watch’ outside the room she had been given, and even though they had been told it would be a while before she would actually wake, they refused to leave. Their hearts grew heavy when one of the healers in Rivendell explained the full extent of Ianthe’s injuries. In addition to the three ugly strips that not brandished her back, many of her ribs had been fractured and broken— thanks to the Wargs heavy paw— to the point that they dug mercilessly into her lungs. The bruise to her spine that she acquired from their encounter with the trolls was no better, and her arms and legs seemed to have grown dark with bruises and cuts she had gained from her time in the forest. They were told that, if her body reacted to their healing methods as ointments well, then she should wake by the fourth day.

But as the fourth day grew closer the more they waited with bated breath. Oin had often grilled that the dwarvish healing methods were better suited for someone like Ianthe and that he could have her awake and feeling better in no time at all, but no one dared step through her doors without hearing that she was awake. No campfires or stories were told as they waited for their mage to return to them. Little Ori had tried to set off a series of songs one night as Bofur played his flute, but the mood around their make-shift camp— they had refused any rooms given to them— was somber. Even the brothers were sat huddled together, hands in their laps as they kept quite. Kili kept his gaze low and his fringe fell to cover his eyes as he let out a deep sigh.

He had wanted nothing more than to burst through the door of Ianthe’s chambers hold her. His heart was frozen with worry and the fear in his chest was still there. The only thing that would ease the prickling feeling of the dwarf prince was to see that Ianthe was alive. He was the one in front of her door this evening, eyes locked and unblinking on the cold door handle. Kili wasn’t exactly sure what he would do when the healers finally announced that she was awake, but he knew that as soon as he was given the chance he would be by her side. The look in her eyes as the Warg trampled her body haunted him. It was often that he found himself at the Elves training grounds when he wasn’t waiting in front of her door. His fingers were rubbed raw from the endless amount of times he had pulled back the string of his bow, and the bruises that littered his elbow and forearm from a careless form showed how long he truly spent firing his weapon. But anything to get her off of his mind. The pain in his arms and shoulders were nothing compared to the pain that settled deep in his gut when he thought about her and how she had pushed him back and out of harm's way.

The day was coming to an end, which meant the next person on watch outside of her door would be coming soon. The pad of Kili’s palm was pressed against his forehead as he let out a deep sigh, his elbow resting against his knee as he leaned forward. He was exhausted, and though the thought of closing his eyes to rest for a moment sounded quite appealing, he refused to give in.  _ Stay awake _ he thought to himself, his hands slapping his cheeks to try and wake himself up a bit. He blinked rapidly before pressing his fingers into his eyes, hoping that he could rub the sleep that settled in his eyes away. Yet as he fell back, his head resting against the cold wall behind him, he shut his eyes for a brief moment. He didn’t open them though, even when Ianthe flashed in front of him. Her smile was inviting and warm, and the fluttering of his heart was a sweet feeling he had grown to love. He could hear her laugh echo in his mind, and he could see the way the blue of her eyes swam like a roaring sea when she listened to his crazy stories. Kili frowned though, and his eyebrows knitted together when the image shifted and he saw the hurt and guilt that captured her features during their captivity by the trolls. It changed again, and this time he could see the determination that clouded her yellow eyes as she pushed him into his uncle's arms as the Warg attacked her from behind, her blood coloring her clothing and the ground an ugly red. His lip quivered at the sight, and his nails dug deep into his palms when tears stung the back of his eyes. He felt useless in that moment. He knew he should’ve tried to fight harder against his uncle, or that he should’ve grabbed her and pushed her in front of him when they first started running, or he could’ve—

A cold hand set lightly against his shoulder and broke Kili out of his daze, and when he snapped his eyes open he was met with the concerned gaze of an Elven healer. The prince tensed upon seeing the elf above him, and he wiped away the tears that had fallen down his flushed cheeks before swiping his palms against his trousers. “What do you want?” His voice was heavy with emotion and he cursed himself for sounding so vulnerable. The Elven maid flinched a bit at his tone, yet her smile remained when she took a step back to allow him to stand. Kili grew irritated when she didn’t respond to him, and it wasn’t long before he glared at her, half angry that she had interrupted him and half angry that she was slow to respond. “I said, what do you—“ 

“Your friend,” When the smooth voice of the elf sounded out he froze. Her smile was kind and the look in her eyes reassuring as she motioned gently towards the crack in the now opened door. “She is awake, Master Dwarf.” 

Oh how those words caused Kili’s heart to sore. His eyes blew wide and he looked between the elf and the door in shock for a moment, his feet frozen to the ground. Blood rushed to his head and the pounding in his head grew as he saw how the soft light in her chambers glowed ever so slightly out into the hallways. His steps were heavy when he finally moved, yet it wasn’t until he looked back to the elf-maiden and she gave him another nod did he rush forward. Kili wanted to cry for joy when he finally set his sights upon her, and though something told him to wait, to alert the others that she had finally woken up, he ignored it as he bounded to her side. 

“Ianthe,” Kili’s voice was as quiet as a mouse and he fell to his knees next to her bed, his fingers shakily grabbing a hold of hers. The mage, though still groggy and aching with pain, turned her head to the side at the sound of her name and upon seeing who it was that spoke, she cracked him a smile. Her lips were chapped and void of color, and though his heart was bursting with joy the worry was not far behind as he looked to her wounds. The skin of her face was purple and bruised, and true to what the healers has said, her arms were littered with small cuts and bruises, though some seemed to already be healed. “ _ Gehyith,  _ you had me worried sick.” It pained him to see how wounded she was, yet he couldn’t deny the happiness that coursed through his veins now that he knew she was awake. 

“Kili..” The prince nodded when Ianthe spoke his name. Her vision was still clouded, nearly completely white, yet she could tell by his touch and his voice that it was him. “Y-you made it safe—“ The mage was interrupted by a series of hacking coughs, her body lurching forward at the force. Kili quickly spotted the pitcher of water and glass on the bed-side table before offering it to her. Her fingers held on to his wrist weakly as he pressed the rim of the glass against her chapped lips, his other gently pressing against her lower back for support. Ianthe gladly accepted the help as she sipped the cold liquid, easing the pain in her throat and wetting her lips. 

“Of course I made it safely.” Kili helped her lie back against the mattress again, and only after tucking her in did he grabbed a hold of her hands again. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips against her bruised knuckles as he sucked in a shaky breath. When he pressed a hand against her back he felt the rough stitches that held her wounds together and kept them from festering. He was certain that if he was to run his fingers over them they would be quite long, and once again his heart pounded with worry and pain. As the prince felt a tug against his hand he looked back up to Ianthe, his brown eyes catching the weak smile that spread her lips. “You— i couldn’t— you.. don’t you ever—“

Kili suddenly found it hard to speak as he watched her, his eyes surveying Ianthe’s mending body. A shudder coursed through his body and he looked away from her and the injuries that littered her body. The grip he hand on her hand tightened when tears stung the back of his eyes, and when she pulled away from him, her fingers brushing against his palm, he wanted to fully cry. However when her fingers brushed against the skin of his jaw, tracing over his stubble before her palm pressed against his cheek, he looked back up to her. The emotions that swirled like a storm in his body were too much, and as she cupped his cheek gently he leaned into her touch. The tears he had been holding back flowed down his cheeks in waves as he went to press his hand against the back of her own, and only when her thumb swiped against his cheek to rid his skin of tears did he turn his head again, this time his lips pressing softly against her palm.

“I-I am fine,  _ astéri mou _ .” Though her words were harsh and gravely Kili felt his heart race. He held on to her hand for the next few quiet moments, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as she caressed the skin of his jaw and cheek. The silence that fell upon the two of them was comfortable and it wasn’t long before contentment filled his heart and the pain he had been feeling ebbed away. She was back. That’s all that mattered to him. She was back, she was alive, she was safe, and he wouldn’t let anything else harm her like that Warg did. Hell, he wouldn’t let  _ anything _ near her again, especially if it meant she would be taken from him again.

~~~

Kili took his time in being with Ianthe when she woke. The dwarves and Bilbo seemed more than happy to let the two talk and reunite, even if it was mostly Kili talking and filling her in on what she had missed while she was asleep. Soon after more of them were allowed in her room, each one entering with small smiles. Even Dwalin seemed relieved to see the young mage awake and doing well. Elrond had come by soon after she awoke, and after explaining to them how her wounds were healing and how much she was allowed to move, the dwarves seemed to relax. Seeing her bandages and bruises made them all on edge. Since Kili and Thorin had been the ones to actually see her get taken down by the Warg, they only had stories to go on and to draw images on the extent of her injuries. It was truly worse than they had originally thought, and it amazed them that she had survived such an attack. Even the toughest of dwarves might have succumbed to wounds such as Ianthe’s. 

Soon after everyone had visited with Ianthe an elven healer, followed by Lord Elrond, entered the room and politely asked them to leave. The dressings on the Mages wounds need to be changed and her wounds needed to be cleaned. Kili argued and fought with the Elves that escorted them out of the rooms, but after a few reassuring words and a gentle smile from Ianthe, he allowed himself to be led out of the room and back to the pavilion that he and the company had set up camp on. Ianthe could see the guilt that lingered in Kili’s eyes whenever he looked at her, and she knew that if he were to see the true extent of her wounds then he would surely blame himself even more than he already did. It pained her to see him leave the room, as she truly wanted him to be with her when her dressings were taken off and new ones put on. Her eyes must have been swimming with emotions and she didn’t realize she was staring at the door until Lord Elrond placed a hand gently across her non-injured shoulder. 

“It is time to rebind your wounds, Ianthe.” He spoke softly. Ianthe’s eyes, though still cloudy from her heavy sleep, looked to the Elven healers and maids in her chambers as they unrolled fresh bandages and mixed fresh ointments for her wounds. When she looked back to the Lord she gave a stiff nod, and slowly but surely— with the help of two other elleths— she managed to twist her body to lie against her stomach before they began the slow and painful process of re-dressing her wounds. 

By the time Ianthe’s wounds were redressed, she had bathed, and had eaten something for the first time in four days, she was ready to collapse again. Her body ached all over and her eyes were bloodshot and swollen; she wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep as the Elven healing magic ran its course through her damaged body. But she missed her company. She missed the conversations that were held between the dwarves as they all sat around a campfire, she missed Gandalf’s mischievous glance and Bilbo’s soft smile whenever he mentioned something back in the Shire. It was too quiet in her chambers, and Ianthe was itching to get back on her feet and dance with the dwarves. Yet her legs could barely support her weight. She grew frustrated each time she tried pushing herself up, but then her arms would shake and her elbows would bend and she’d find herself against the mattress again. 

It wasn’t until a heavy knock against her chamber door sounded throughout her room did she sit up again. Her arms still shook but she managed to fall on to an upright pillow against the headboard before she looked towards the door. “You may come in.” She called, fisting the fabric of her duvet for a moment as the door was forced open. Ianthe felt herself smile when she saw who her visitor was. The grey streaks in his hair seemed brighter now that he had gotten a chance to properly wash himself, and surprisingly enough his lips were curled into a tiny smile under his untrimmed beard. Ianthe waved her fingers towards him, beckoning him closer before folding her hands in her lap. “Thorin, to what do I owe this visit?” She joked, giving him a wink as he crossed the room.

Thorin’s chest rumbled with quiet laughter, his footsteps echoing in the room gently before he made it to her bedside. “I haven’t had the chance to properly thank you,” He started slowly, and only when Ianthe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion did he continue. “For pushing Kili to me; if you hadn’t of done that…” Thorin’s gaze fell to the many bandages that covered and held your body together, his eyes softening and swimming with remorse after he flinched. The mage reaches forward and held on to one of his hands, her smaller fingers wrapping around his own before giving his hand a small squeeze. “What you did for him, saving him, almost cost you your life. I’m forever grateful for that.”

“Anyone would have done the same, Thorin.” Ianthe gave a small laugh, yet when a sharp pain suddenly shot through her ribs she flinched and sucked in a deep breath. Her hand retracted from Thorin’s and went over her still aching ribs as she shifted on the bed, and once the pain subsided a bit she looked back to the dwarf only to find him looking to her in concern. She waved him off, pulling her duvet further up her lap before she spoke again. “I told you when I joined the company that I would protect you all— I meant every word, Thorin.” When the dwarf looked away from her Ianthe let out a sigh. “I would gladly do it again, especially if it meant either one of you would be alright—“

“He was worried, you know.” Thorin was quick to change the subject, yet Ianthe knew immediately who he was talking about. The mage could still see those honey eyes filled with worry and guilt when she had first woken up that afternoon. “Waited outside your door more than anyone else.” 

Ianthe could feel her body heat up at the thought, and the red on her cheeks only darkened when she saw the knowing smirk that Thorin was sporting. “S-so I’ve been told.” She cursed herself when her voice shook a bit and she turned from Thorin when he chuckled as her freckles cheeks grew red. He wasn’t the only one to inform her of the youngest princes endeavors while she was sleeping. Ianthe couldn’t help but smile when she thought of how Kili waited for her, his eyes glued to the chamber door and his hands folded in his lap. The racing of her heart and the pull in her gut was something that she was beginning to welcome more and more the longer that she thought of that young prince. His smile made her stomach flutter and his eyes— oh his eyes were the perfect shade that reminded her of smooth chocolate in the firelight, yet a delicious golden honey in the sunlight. The mage hadn't realized how much she missed Kili’s touch— the brushing of his hands over her shoulders or how his fingers would grip on to hers for dear life— until she first woke up to feel his hand in hers. 

“He cares for you a lot, Ianthe.”

“I care for him as well, Thorin. Do not think that I don’t.” Ianthe replied with a sudden bout of energy, and her eyes filled with passion as her lips spread into a grin. 

Thorin had stood not too long ago and was making his way back to the door while he nodded his head. “I don’t doubt that,” He spoke, his fingers resting atop of the door handle as he turned back to her. The shine in her eyes made him laugh the slightest bit. “He can be reckless and quite pig-headed at times, but don’t let that discourage you, he means well. In the end he’ll do right by you.” Ianthe felt confusion run through her at Thorin’s words, especially since his voice was stern, yet he spoke with such gentleness that the mage felt at ease. She nodded nonetheless, and offered him one last smoke before he left. Thorin had seen the connection that had grown between his nephew and the mage was not unnoticeable to Thorin, and he could see how affected and hurt Kili had been while Ianthe was away. He had seen the glances that Kili often shot her, and most times she would smile back before bounding over to him to strike up a conversation. There was a glow that seemed to surround the two whenever they were together, their smiles contagious to the others. Thorin knew why Kili was acting this way, and though he knew little of the Mage’s, he had a feeling that Ianthe’s behavior was spurred on by something similar. And if he was correct in his way of thinking, then the mage had a long road ahead of her with Kili and his antics. 

~~~

“Here, Ianthe! You can take my seat, lass!”

The mage let out a small laugh as Bofur grabbed her hands gently, leading her to the seat he was previously sat in. The dwarves around her bubbled with life and their smiles were large as they took in her appearance. The color in her skin was back, and the freckles on her cheeks and nose seemed more prominent now that the blood and dirt had been cleaned off. The healer of the company, Oin, made sure to give her his own verdict of her wounds. Though she knew the healing of the Elves was nearly unmatched, she nodded along with the dwarf’s words and was happy to listen to him. She had been kept in her chambers for so long, and it had been a while since she last listened to the arguments of the dwarves. Ianthe was happy to be back within the ranks of her company. 

“Gave us quite the scare there, lass.” Oin commented some time after. The dwarves all grumbled in agreement, some raising their forks before stuffing their mouths with sausage. 

“Aye, don’t know what we’d do without our precious guide, now would we?!” 

Cheers sprouted out among the circle of dwarves, and it wasn’t long before stories were told and the company grew merry again. Ianthe’s chest bubbled with laughter from time to time, though she was careful to not get too rambunctious as the stitches in her back pulled whenever she moved too much. The evening soon grew dark and a fire was lit in the middle of the Dwarven circle. Ianthe noticed a while back that Thorin had excused himself again, and though she grew curious as to why the leader kept running off, she stayed seated. The dwarves— most likely Fili and Kili, with the help of Nori— raided the kitchens and managed to bring some ale and uncooked meat for the company to ravage. Many of the dwarves had moved places, and it wasn’t long before Ianthe found herself squished between a very drunk Bofur and a flushed Ori. His hands were still working on the green sweater that he had promised her a while back, and from time to time she would catch his eye. The poor dwarf would grow pink whenever she winked at him, and it wasn’t long before someone else pointed out how red he got. The dwarves seemed happy again to have their mage back, and she was more than happy to be back with them.

But as the night grew long and the dwarves began to wind down from their merry-making, Ianthe noticed that yet another dwarf was absent from the circle. The mage was sure that Kili was sitting a few spots over from her, pipe held securely between his lips as he watched her. She had to admit, he was oddly quiet that night, but she merely shook it off as him being tired. Ianthe wasn’t exactly sure when he had left. She couldn’t seem to recall ever seeing him standing and leaving the circle, and he hadn’t taken his bow with him as it was set where he was previously seated. So he couldn’t be hunting. There wasn’t any need, either. 

“He’s by the fountain.” 

Ianthe jumped a bit— a groan falling past her lips when her stitches tugged against her skin— when someone spoke close to her right. Her bright eyes grew wide when she saw Fili, his mustache braids raised in amusement as he shot her a sly smile. “W-who is?” She pressed a hand over her racing heart at the small scare. Fili rolled his eyes at her question, and he pushed himself to his feet before grabbing her hands. He was gentle as he pulled her to her feet, brushing away some dust that had settled across her chin before smiling at her again.

“My brother.” He chuckled. When a deep blush settled across her face, Fili let out a deep laugh again, his fingers smoothing down the light tunic she was wearing before grabbing a hold of her hand again. “I know you were looking for him. He’s had a lot on his mind recently, so I told him to go to the fountain to relax and cool off.”

“Should we be going then?” Ianthe was quiet as she spoke, her eyes falling to the smooth floor as Fili led her away from the rest of the dwarves. She was thankful for his hand hold and guiding her, as she was certain that she would’ve tumbled over by now. “If he needs some time alone, we should give that to him.” The pain in her back was slowly growing, and she had a feeling that by the next morning she would be sore. But Ianthe had only talked with Kili once since she woke up. A deep longing had settled in her chest, and the mage was desperate to see him again. This wasn’t the first time that she had felt this way before, but it was the first time that she had realized what was causing this feeling to grow. 

“I think what Kili truly needs,” Fili paused, bringing her to a stop along the edge of an enclosed area before he gave the back of her hand a small pat. “is you, Ianthe.”

The mage grew stiff at his words, and her heart jolted in her chest as she felt her body grow hot. Her talk with Thorin had made her realize some things about his nephew. Ianthe wasn’t very experienced with the act of falling in love. Hell, she had never even been informed that this is what it would feel like to fall in love with someone. She never expected the racing of her heart each time she saw him, or the heating of her skin every time they shared an accidental touch or when he would look at her. Kili was kind and thoughtful towards the mage, and she began to notice the little things he did for her or to make her laugh. Ianthe never thought that she would fall in love with someone. That wasn’t something she considered. But it had happened, and she was more than willing to fall in love with the dwarf prince.

“Go to him.” Fili gave Ianthe’s hand a small squeeze before he let go, and he pressed a hand to the small of her back to guide her in the direction of his brother. 

Ianthe froze suddenly, and her eyes blew wide when she saw a tuft of brunette hair peeking out from the other side of the glorious fountain. Her palms grew sweaty and her heart raced wildly against her ribs. “W-What am I to say?” As she looked back to the blonde dwarf she dug her heels into the ground. For some reason, the thought of going to Kili now made her want to run and hide. She had no idea what to say to the dwarf she had fallen for. And the smirk that tugged up Fili’s lips made her want to scream, telling him to leave her alone and stop taunting her.

“You’ll figure it out, lass. You both will.”

With one last gentle shove forward Ianthe went stumbling closer to the fountain. Whatever confidence she had before, though it wasn’t very much to begin with, had completely flown away with the gentle breeze that blew the leaves across the ground. Kili seemed to have heard the hurried footsteps of the mage, and almost as soon as he turned around and saw her stumbling he rushed forward. He was by her side in a second, his hands gentle and caring as he wrapped his arms around her body. “Mahal, Ianthe!” Kili’s eyes were wide as he looked to her, one arm snaking around her waist as they other raised one of her arms around his shoulders. “You need to be more careful,  _ gehyith _ . You could’ve fallen.”

Ianthe felt her body grow hot as Kili held her. His fingers held on to her hand in the most kindest way as he led her towards the fountain, and he was careful of her still healing injuries as he helped her to sit against the smooth edge of the fountain. “Thank you, Kili.” She spoke lowly, worried that the swirl of emotions that coursed through her body couldn be heard. Kili gave a small nod in reply, and after making sure that she was comfortable he took the spot next to her. The two fell into a comfortable silence suddenly, yet a hot tension slowly formed around the two of them. 

The water from the fountain gurgled rhythmically behind them as they sat, and though Ianthe wished she could say something, the lump in her throat and the skip in her heart kept her from doing so. She could feel his eyes on her, watching and waiting for her next move. But the mage was frozen stiff. Her palms were clammy and she could feel her skin growing hot the longer that he stared at her. It wasn’t until she finally locked gazes with Kili’s soft brown eyes did he finally speak, breaking the ever growing silence between them. “Why did you come out here, Ianthe? Shouldn’t you be resting? Your wounds still are not fully—“

“I wanted to see you!” A deep red settled on the skin of her cheeks after her sudden outburst, and Ianthe was quick go turn her gaze to her fingers before she spoke again. “I-I noticed you had left the company earlier and I got worried. I wanted to make sure that you were alright..” The Mages voice lost its power by the time she finished speaking. Kili had to strain a bit to hear her words, but he heard them nonetheless. A smile pulled up his lips at her words, and he reached out to grab her trembling hands before lacing their fingers together. Ianthe stiffen at the touch again, yet she couldn’t help but squeeze his hand the tiniest bit when he smoothed his thumb over the back of her knuckles. 

“I’m alright,  _ gehyith _ .” Kili’s words were spoken soft and clearly, and when Ianthe turned back to look at him when he tugged on her thick fingers, she was surprised to find him smiling at her. She was tempted to look away again, but for some reason found herself staring into his eyes as he spoke again. “There isn’t any reason to worry about me.” His eyes were swimming with a deep sense of adoration for the mage as he looked to her, and for a moment he could’ve sworn that her eyes flickered down to his lips. But he ignored the sudden jolt of his heart and the bristle of heat in his chest while he cleared his throat. “As long as you’re well and healing nicely, then I’m just fine.” 

Ianthe didn’t know how to react to his words. Obviously she knew he meant them as a reassurance, but ever since she realized her feelings for the dwarf prince, she wasn’t exactly sure how to go about telling him. Did he even like her back? She didn’t know. The thumping in her chest grew loud and as her cheeks flushed again she found herself looking away from him. “That’s good.” She awkwardly coughed out, keeping her eyes glued to the small flowers that painted the ground floor. The way his fingers felt against her own sent another jolt through her heart, and a permanent flush settled on her cheeks before she tried to figure out something else to say. “I-I’m glad that y-you’re doing.. fine?” Ianthe groaned out softly as she stumbled over her words, only for them to sound utterly pathetic. Kili seemed to find her suddenly flushed stare amusing, and the grip he had on her fingers tightened before he gave a small tug on her wrist. She looked to him again, blue eyes locking with his deep honey ones for a silent moment. 

The only sound that echoed through the small clearing was that of the soft rumbling of the fountain behind them. The birds in the area seemed curious as to what the two were doing, and their previous chittering quieted to a stop. Kili kept his gaze focused on Ianthe and she did the same. The pair kept quiet though, neither one feeling the urge to break the awakes yet still comfortable silence that fell amongst them. The young prince could see the once dark bruises that littered her freckles face had faded some, and in the moonlight he saw the faint scars that her cuts created. He mentally cursed himself for letting such harm befall his little mage. Kili gave her fingers one last squeeze before he went to look away, hoping that the still horrid images of her flashing in his mind would go away. She was safe, yes, but he could still see her wounded and helpless. As he went to turn, however, Ianthe gave a small tug against his hand, and when he turned back, he was surprised to see her eyebrows knitted together. 

“Thank you, for caring about me.” 

Kili was shocked at her words, and for a brief moment his heart thumped loudly before coming to a stop. The look on her face was most sincere, and if it wasn’t for the fact that her eyes shone with what he believed to be determination, he would’ve thought that she was joking. “You don’t need to thank me, Ianthe.” He finally mustered the strength to speak to her again, his hair falling behind him when he shook his head. The prince scooted the tiniest bit closer to Ianthe, their thighs touching as he held her hands tightly within his own. His gaze hardened when she turned away from him, and he reached forward to clasp her chin and turn her face towards him before he laid his palm against the soft skin of her cheek. A silence fell between the two of them again, and it wasn’t until Ianthe gave him a soft smile while she leaned into his touch that he spoke again. “I will always care for you,  _ amrâlimê _ . Don’t you ever doubt that.” 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please don’t forget to leave a comment and/or kudos!! I’m open to any feedback of any kind!!


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